


Rosebush

by notaguitarfret



Series: "They're all girlfriends" AU [7]
Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: (almost) date rape, Angst, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, Period-Typical Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-16 04:53:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 43,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15429429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notaguitarfret/pseuds/notaguitarfret
Summary: Veronica goes to her first Remington party, and unsurprisingly, things don't go too smoothly.





	1. Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> hey!! just a heads up in case you didn't read the tags/for some clarification
> 
> while no one actually gets raped in this, nor is there anything too graphic, it's heavily implied in a couple of scenes, so if that kind of thing makes you uncomfortable, then i recommend skipping this entry
> 
> otherwise... i hope you enjoy

“Veronica!”

The brunette whipped her head away from her locker, glancing around to find the person who had called her name. She already knew _who_ \- she knew the voice all too well.

She shut her locker and without it blocking half of her view of the hallway, she saw the friendly faces of Martha and Betty, as well as another figure trailing behind them. She waved at the trio, beginning to walk towards them. They met each other halfway.

“Hi, guys!” she greeted them warmly. She then glanced up at JD, who had stopped just behind Betty. “Seems like you’ve reunited, at last.”

Both Betty and JD let out a chuckle.

“Was never really a reunion. We never lost touch to begin with,” Betty said.

“Still, it’s good to see you here in Westerburg,” Veronica said, giving Betty a quick hug. “You liking it so far?” She then bit her tongue. “Well, as much as you _can_ like this shithole.”

Betty giggled. “It’s alright, I guess. Not much to see for the first half of your day.”

Veronica gave a curt nod, before turning to JD. “Oh, thanks again for the ride on Friday.”

JD gave her a thumbs up. “Like I said, it was no issue. I was going in that direction anyway.”

“Yeah, I know, but still.” She gave him a pat on the arm. “Not everyday I can speak to someone for a couple of minutes before they offer me a ride on their kickass motorbike.”

“You both keep talking about how cool his motorbike is,” Martha stated. “Say, JD, will I ever be able to have a ride?”

“I don’t see why not.” He shrugged. “I’d offer you one after school, but I don’t have a spare helmet.”

Veronica arched a brow at him. “You let me ride without a helmet.”

“Yeah, because it was five minutes. Any longer than that and I wouldn’t have let you.” He let out a huff of laughter. “And to be honest, if I had, Heather probably would have eaten my ass already.”

Martha and Betty chuckled at that. Veronica pursed her lips nervously.

“Yeah, it wouldn’t have looked good on her if she let me ride off with some stranger and then fell right off said stranger’s motorbike as a result.”

Betty arched a brow at her. “Such a complicated way of saying that she was concerned for your safety.”

The idea was heartwarming, Veronica had to admit. She’d been surprised when Heather had snapped at JD for even suggesting taking Veronica on a motorbike with no gear. She tried to reason that she was simply in the right to do so, and that it definitely wasn’t because Heather was _actually_ concerned about her well-being more than a normal human being was. Because she _was_ right - riding a motorbike with no helmet, even for a few minutes, was a dumbass idea.

She was suddenly dragged out of her thoughts when she heard the sound of Martha and Betty giggling. Her cheeks grew warm. She knew _exactly_ why they were giggling.

“Say,” Betty eventually said. “I’ve been keeping my eye out for any one of the Heathers. It’s like a game trying to guess who they are.” She glanced at JD. “All I know from you is that there’s the ‘yellow one,’ the ‘green one,’ and the ‘red one.’” Her eyes then landed on Veronica, her gaze teasing. “I’ve been keeping my eye out for her the most.”

Veronica gave an embarrassed pout.

“Was she the ginger one in the red blazer?” she asked, grinning cheekily. “She threw a pencil at one of the dudes on the front row.”

Veronica slowly nodded. Betty giggled.

“Not surprised you’d have a thing for her.” She lowered her voice into a whisper, making sure no one would be able to eavesdrop. “She’s pretty hot.”

“Uh- _speaking_ of which.” She shot a quick glance to her blue swatch. “I’m late meeting up with the Heathers.” She took a few steps back from the group, two of which were trying to hold back their snickers. “I’ll see you guys later, okay?”

“Okay!” Martha smiled, giving her a wave.

“Have fun.” Betty winked. Veronica gave a disdainful huff. Apparently, somewhere in the past four years they had been apart, Betty had become one cheeky bitch.

 

* * *

 

Veronica meandered around the many lunch tables as quickly as she could without spilling the contents on her lunch tray, getting closer to her usual table. She soon enough came up to a certain distance away from said table, and it was as if she had crossed some sort of force-field, as all of the Heathers’ heads turned simultaneously in her direction.

She tried to swallow the quickening heartbeat in her chest as she made her way over to the last seat available - right next to Heather Chandler, whose gaze was burning into her as she clambered over the bench.

“And just where have you been?” she questioned.

“Sorry,” she shot her an apologetic look. “I got caught up with an old friend.”

“Old friend?” McNamara asked, sounding genuinely curious.

“Doesn’t happen to be the new kid in my biology class, does it?” Duke added from behind her book.

“Is her name Betty Finn?” Veronica asked her, picking up her fork and puncturing it into the clumpy mash.

“Oh, Finn.” Duke looked up from her book. “Could’ve sworn her last name was Fish.” She snickered crudely. Veronica glared at her.

“I swear to God, if you start using that as much as ‘Dumptruck’ I’ll have something to say about it.”

“No promises,” Chandler chided, a cocky grin spread across her face. Veronica scowled and, in a moment of bold stupidity, lightly slapped her knee from under the table. Heather flinched, smirk disappearing in favour of one of shock and disgust.

“ _Ow,_ ” she spat. Veronica gave a scoff, ignoring Heather and Heather’s confused expressions.

“As if that actually hurt.”

“You don’t slap your _best friend_ , Sawyer.”

 _Can you even call me that at this point?_ is what she was tempted to say. She knew better than to do that, though.

“And _you_ don’t insult your _best friend’s_ best friends,” she retorted.

“Touche,” Duke quipped, which earned her a glare from Chandler. She immediately hid her face behind her book.

Veronica rolled her eyes, then returned her attention to the slop on her plate.

“Anyway…” she muttered, taking a gulp of the soggy mash. “What did I miss on Friday?”

Duke peeked over the top of her book.

“Would you like the short version or the long version?”

Veronica blinked at her. “Uh… both, I guess?”

“Short version: Heather vomited. Long version: Heather lost a bet to me and vomited beer everywhere.”

Veronica could almost feel the instant regret felt by Duke as soon as the last word left her mouth. Chandler stabbed her with an ice cold stare. Duke froze under her glare, the only thing moving being her green irises. She caught McNamara’s gaze and grabbed her arm.

“Uh, come to the bathroom with me,” she told her. McNamara’s brows furrowed.

“But-”

“Now.”

Without giving the blonde any other chance to speak, she pulled her up from the bench and dragged her out of the cafeteria, leaving Veronica alone with the Demon Queen. She chanced a glimpse at her, seeing irritation still flickering in her eyes.

“Damn, _you_ vomited?” She let out a huff of disbelief. “And here I was under the impression you were immune to alcohol poisoning.” A light chuckle escaped her, though it was clear that Heather didn’t find any humour in it. She frowned, but was still motivated to keep the mood up. “Three down, one to go! Hopefully McNamara doesn’t end up vomiting at the Remington party.”

Chandler swung her head around to face her.

“She better not,” she snapped. “And she won’t. She knows better than that.”

Veronica finally took the hint that this wasn’t a laughing matter for Heather, and clamped her mouth shut, allowing Heather to continue speaking.

“Now, I’d appreciate it if you and Heather didn’t announce it to the entire cafeteria,” she snarled, her eyes raking the student body.

Veronica tilted her head slightly. “Hey, if I can bounce back from it,” she nudged her on the arm. “Surely the almighty Heather Chandler can as well?”

Heather scoffed, her arm jerking away from her. “I never said I couldn’t.” She rested her head on her hand, while she used the other to twirl her fork around her left overs.

Veronica couldn’t tear her gaze away from her for the next few moments, unable to stop the urge to draw an outline around Heather’s perfectly shaped face with her brown gaze. Well, that was a lie. She _could_ stop, but she definitely didn’t want to.

There was apparently a force powerful enough to drag her attention away from the girl, however. Just entering ear-shot, Veronica could hear a conversation being shared by none other than Kurt and Ram.

“Sucks that Veronica couldn’t make it to the party. We could’ve seen some girl on girl action!” Kurt whined.

“Like a Heather Chandler and Veronica Sawyer sandwich?” Ram asked.

“You bet! Punch it in!”

While they made childish giddy noises in response to each other, Veronica couldn’t help but bury her face into her hands in some attempt to hide the redness that may have developed on her cheeks. The blush was by no means for Kurt or Ram, of course, but for the image they had conjured up in her mind. One that she dared not even _think_ out loud.

She parted her fingers in order to glance at Heather, who appeared to be just as disgusted as her. They caught each other’s gaze for a split second, and it was as if they both shared the same thought. That thought being, _not a word_.

Heather then looked up, eyes locking with something behind her. With the lingering smell of sweat that had suddenly appeared, Veronica could only assume that the two teenage boys were standing right behind her. She lifted her head up, following Heather’s gaze, and sure enough came into contact with the two jocks. She let out a quiet groan through the gaps of her teeth.

“Hello, ladies,” Ram greeted them, his tone sounding more slimy than it was charming.

“What do you want?” Heather muttered from behind her.

“Oh yeah,” Kurt said. “We came to ask why you left my party so early.”

“We tried to ask Heather Duke, but she punched us in the balls,” Ram confessed, slightly shameful. Veronica didn’t even attempt to stop a snort of laughter coming out.

“And where were you, anyway?” Kurt asked, turning to Veronica.

“Like we said, she was _ill_.” Heather made sure to emphasise that last word, as if she was aiming it not only at Kurt and Ram, but at Veronica. She curtly nodded.

“Oh, yeah. I caught a pretty bad fever that night,” she lied. “Sorry, fellas.” Another lie. She wasn’t sorry in the slightest.

Both of them gave disappointed pouts. It was so fucking childish.

“And what about you?” Ram nodded towards Heather. “You vomited and then just ditched us. The hell happened?”

“Yeah. I thought Heather Chandler didn’t vomit at parties,” Kurt mumbled in Ram’s ears, sniggering.

Their little giggle fest was interrupted by Heather swinging her long, slender legs onto the other side of the bench and promptly standing up, towering over the two boys, despite Ram being notably taller than her. Her bold posture was enough to silence them both, and the way her hips swayed in a way that Veronica found so enchanting with each stride that she took towards the pair was enough for them to take a couple of steps back.

“Perhaps you two should worry less about me,” she began, her voice a low hiss. “And more about how you two throw your little _parties_ , if you could even call them that.” She stopped about an inch away from them both, looming over them with a dark, threatening stare.

“What’s wrong with it…?” Kurt whimpered, staring up at Heather with a glint of fear in his eyes.

“For one,” she placed a finger on his chest, her nail threatening to puncture through the fabric of his stinking shirt. “Get beer that doesn’t cost three fucking dollars.” Her face scrunched up in disgust. “It tasted vile.”

Kurt and Ram shot each other a nervous glance. “It costed eight dollars per pack, actually…” Kurt murmured, which only flared up the dangerous flame in Heather’s eyes more.

“Then you got ripped off,” she spat, pushing Kurt backward with one finger, causing him to stumble back a few steps. “Thanks to you dickheads, you made _me_ , Heather Chandler, _throw up_.” She angled her chin up. “What do you have to say for yourselves, losers?”

Kurt and Ram both looked at each other, as if begging the other boy for some sort of answer, before they both said in unison,

“Sorry.”

A triumphant grin slid onto Heather’s red lips. “That’s what I thought.” She narrowed her eyes into blue slits. “Now shoo.” She flicked her hand back and forth dismissively, watching as they scrambled away from her.

It was only when Heather turned back to Veronica did she let out the breath she had been holding, and realised her pulse was going _wild_.

Heather arched a brow at her.

“Why so tense?” She stalked back over to her, settling on the bench beside her. Veronica gulped, trying to cough up a sentence.

“N-nothing. No reason.”

Heather clearly wasn’t buying it, what with the way she held her gaze for a drawn out amount of time. Regardless, she dropped it.

“Like I said, I can bounce back from something like Kurt or Ram like that-” she snapped her fingers, “but even I don’t have that much power when it comes to a Remington party.” She leaned closer to her, stopping any sort of steady breaths coming from Veronica. “Which is _why_ -” she gripped the collar of her shirt, tugging her just close enough to feel her breath graze over her lips, causing her heart to stop for a short moment, “-you _cannot_ mess this up.”

The corner of Veronica’s mouth quirked up.

“So, no vomiting?”

“ _No_ ,” she shot back, releasing her from her grip. “You need to be on your _best_ behaviour. Or else.”

Veronica felt like she didn’t need to ask ‘or else what,’ as she’d already had a taste of what that could be like.

 _An ex-somebody,_ a distant memory echoed in her head.

“Speaking of which,” Heather continued. “I need to run you down on what’s happening on Friday.”

Veronica nodded, prompting her to go on.

“I’m taking you to my house at six. Make sure you have nice clothes at the ready.”

“Wait, why am I going to yours?” Not that she was complaining. “I can just get changed at home.”

“Because you can’t accessorise for shit,” she replied, flicking the blue and white button that sat in the gap between the two ends of her collar. “So I’m doing it.”

Veronica raised her brows.

“Oh! Uh…” She pursed her lips. “...Thanks?”

Heather didn’t acknowledge her gratefulness.

“The party starts at nine so we have a good few hours to get ready.”

“I figured we were being fashionably late.”

She gave her an odd look. “For fuck’s sake, Veronica, this isn’t a housewarming party. If we’re late then that will look bad on us.”

Veronica tilted her head. “And it never has before?”

“No. We’re at the top of the food chain here at Westerburg.” She gaze drifted off towards somewhere else in the cafeteria, and after following that gaze, she realised she was looking at the table full of jocks. “Not so much outside. But we need to make it known.”

Veronica looked back to her. “Fair enough, I guess.” She began to make circular motions in her food with her fork. “So, six?”

“Six.”

 

* * *

 

Veronica leaned against her bedroom door while Heather scrolled through her wardrobe on a search for some clothes that would be considered presentable at a Remington party. She’d been going at it for about five minutes now.

“Y’know, I actually got excited when you decided to leave your car to knock rather than blare your horn for five minutes,” Veronica said. “Kinda sucks that it was for the sole purpose of coming into my house to choose my clothes _for_ me.”

Heather glimpsed at her from over her shoulder. “Of course I’m choosing your clothes for you.” She unhooked a hanger which held a navy blue overall dress. She ran her fingers down the fabric, judging its worth. She kept hold of it while she ran a nail over the numerous fabrics, stopping on a grey-blue shirt. She grabbed its hanger and placed it behind the dress, before gesturing Veronica to come over by luring her in with her finger. Veronica obliged, sauntering over to her a stopping a few feet away.

Heather held the clothes out in front of her, taking a few slow steps forward so that the clothes would touch her. Veronica felt her body tense up when her knuckles brushed over her collarbone.

“This will do,” she then said, dragging the clothes away. “Lets go.” She snapped her fingers and began to make her way out of her room, soon being followed on by Veronica.

They were soon out the house and in Heather’s Porsche, and were quick in starting up the car and driving at the highest speed as they were allowed. Probably to save as much as their precious time as they could, Veronica assumed.

It didn’t take long for them to reach Heather’s house. Veronica had been there a few times before (not every visit being a pleasant one) and yet still found herself admiring how pretty it appeared. The garden was well kept, different arrays of flowers guiding you down the stone pathway. Veronica was too busy staring at the decor that she almost bumped into Heather when she suddenly stopped in front of the door to unlock it.

When passing the living room, Veronica was reminded of the time Heather had cuddled up against her, a mere three weeks ago. She’d been drunk, obviously, but she still couldn’t help but envy the memory.

She couldn’t slow down for long though, as Heather was already climbing up the stairs. Veronica quickened her pace to catch up with her, making sure she didn’t stumble over the outfit she was holding in doing so.

“Now, you go and wash your hair,” Heather commanded as soon as she reached the top of the stairs. “I’ll go wash mine.”

Veronica gave her an odd look. “I thought there was only one shower in this house.”

“Ever heard of a sink?” Heather replied. “You’ll be fine. Your hair’s short enough.” She swiped her fingers through the ends of Veronica’s hair, making her flinch.

“I’ll be fine. I washed it yesterday,” Veronica assured her. Heather arched a brow at her, before bringing her hand up to comb her hair with her nails. The feeling of the acrylic shot shivers down Veronica’s spine, and she hated how she wished it had lasted longer than a few seconds.

“Wash it,” Heather repeated, coiling her hand back. Veronica hesitated, before nodding.

 

* * *

 

“It would’ve been easier if you had made me have a shower at my house and _then_ picked me up,” Veronica muttered as she lifted her head up from the sink. She’d been trying to ignore the heavy thumping in her chest that had been sounding for the past ten minutes, ever since she had entered the same room that Heather was showering in, the only barrier between them being a dark red curtain.

“No it wouldn’t, because then I wouldn’t be able to style your hair,” she shot back. “And you’d have to use your cheap-ass shampoo from your local corner shop.”

Veronica rolled her eyes as she squeezed out the last bit of the rose-scented shampoo out of her wet locks, the foam swirling down the drain.

“Could you pass me the conditioner?” she asked, looking towards the shower curtain. She heard some shuffling, before a lone hand holding a conditioner bottle appeared from behind it. Veronica reached over and grabbed it, her hand skimming over Heather’s while she did so. Veronica quickly squeezed some of the white liquid onto her palm, before returning it back to her.

“So, just how important is this party, anyway?” Veronica asked, coating her brown hair with the conditioner.

“Consider the fact that I’m letting you stand in the same room as me while I _shower_ and take a wild guess.”

Veronica gulped. “Right…” It was a crude reminder that Heather was standing a few feet away from her, completely exposed. She dare not ponder on that thought for longer than half a second.

There was a deafening pause.

“Why did you _think_ I was?” Heather suddenly asked, her tone becoming more on edge. Veronica’s eyes flashed over to the curtain yet again, this time with a hint of anxiety.

“I- uh-” she stammered. “To be nice?”

“Don’t lie,” she snarled. Veronica scraped her lower lip with her teeth, returning to the sink.

“I-” She bit her tongue, knowing that digging this hole any further would be foolish. “Sorry.”

Heather didn’t speak a single word, up until she had to ask Veronica for her to pass her a towel. Veronica silently obeyed. She waited for Heather to eventually appear, and when she did, Veronica caught her breath.

I don’t know if you’ve heard, but Heather was fucking gorgeous.

And there she was, standing in front of Veronica, covered by nothing but a white towel.

“This again?” Heather suddenly snapped her out of her trance with a low voice. Veronica fluttered her lashes in an attempt to drag herself back into reality, and was met with a pair of blazing eyes.

“Sorry, I-” Veronica tried to form words, but was cut off by Heather grabbing her by her collar and leaning into her ear.

“Keep this up tonight and you’ll be six feet under,” she hissed. Veronica froze up, and could only nod. Heather held her gaze for a while longer, before stalking around her and exiting the bathroom. Veronica cautiously followed behind, lead into her bedroom.

As soon as she stepped past the door frame, Heather snapped her fingers and pointed to her bed. Veronica pushed any suggestive thoughts that developed into her head away, instead just roboticly went to sit.

Heather grabbed her bathrobe from the chair in front of her vanity. “I’ll be back,” she muttered, leaving the room. Veronica stared after her, kicking her feet back and forth impatiently. She shoved a lone strand of hair that had fallen over her face and began to drip water down her cheek, and in turn tightened the towel that was settled around her neck and on her shoulders.

Heather soon returned, now wearing her bathrobe and holding a hairdryer. She went and plugged it into the wall, then came and sat right next to Veronica, only an inch apart. Veronica resisted the urge to close the gap.

Heather grabbed the towel on her neck and slipped it off, before flicking on the hairdryer. Veronica shut her eyes as she felt a wave of hot air hit her as the dryer blared into her hair.

She felt the air circle to the back of her head, Heather holding her by the chin to turn her around. Veronica blinked open her eyes now that nothing was blowing in her face.

Heather grabbed a brush from her nightstand and began to comb it through her hair, her movements slow and planned. Veronica took note on how she curled the ends of her hair with her brush, along with positioning the hairdryer in a certain way that would make her hair dry in a certain shape. She had half expected her to mercilessly pull at her hair in a desperate attempt to remove any knots, but instead she found her scalp being lightly stroked by the bristles, sending ripples of tingles down her spine.

“What are you smiling at?” Heather suddenly asked over the aggressive sound of the hairdryer. Veronica let her eyes shut as she came around to her temples.

“It’s relaxing,” she said.

“Tch,” Heather huffed, shaking her head and rolling her eyes.

Veronica lost track of time as Heather made her way around the rest of her hair, and soon enough, the hairdryer was off. Veronica fluttered her eyes open and brought up a hand to run her fingers through her hair, and was surprised at how _soft_ and _fluffy_ it felt.

Suddenly she understood where the texture of Heather’s hair came from.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Heather throwing her clothes at her.

“Now get changed while I dry mine,” she ordered, getting up from the bed and over to her mirror. Veronica paused to watch her begin to blow dry her ginger locks, watching as they were carried by the warm air of the dryer, then swirled around the bristles of the brush.

Then the sound of the dryer stopped.

“You gonna move any time soon?” Heather questioned, staring at Veronica’s reflection. Veronica immediately shot up, muttered an apology and went to get changed in the bathroom.

After swapping out her usual school outfit for the shirt and dress, Veronica finally made her way back to Heather’s room, and had pushed the door open slightly, when she was met with a,

“Don’t come in!”

Veronica jumped back from the door, immediately shutting it again. She took a wild guess that Heather was probably in the midst of getting changed, and she’d nearly walked in on her doing so. Thank God the girl was alert enough to notice her before she stepped inside.

She waited outside for a few minutes, leaning on the wall next to the door, before it finally swung open. Veronica flipped around to enter, only to stop in her tracks at the stunning sight before her.

Heather wore a black dress, accented with crimson laces that hooked around her neck into a bow, as well as around her waist. That same crimson was shared by her earrings, which when getting a closer look, were small rose-shaped buds. The hem of her dress was traced with that same colour, stopping just above her knees. Emerging from her dress were fishnet tights, criss-crossing over her slender legs delicately, along with the all-too familiar red shoes that ~~McNamara~~ Veronica had bought her in an attempt to apologise for the disastrous night that had ended with Heather’s heels being coated by her vomit.

“Coming in?” Heather prompted her, her tone slightly frustrated. Veronica snapped her gaze back up to her blue irises and nodded, stepping into her room.

“Now sit, I need to do your makeup, and we have an hour left.” She pointed towards her bed, and Veronica returned to her seat.

“How long’s the drive?” she asked, watching as Heather gathered different makeup items from her vanity.

“Twenty minutes.”

She gave a light huff. “Then what’s the hurry?”

“I’ve been to many Remington parties, Veronica,” she said, stalking over to the bed. “Risking showing up ‘on time’ isn’t the best idea.”

Veronica gave a fake gasp. “We’re going _early_?” She chuckled lightly as Heather twisted the lid off of the foundation. “And here I thought that was deemed ‘trying to hard.’”

“At a typical student house party, _yes_ ,” Heather cut in, hooking her finger under Veronica’s chin to hold her still. “I told you, Remington parties are different.”

Veronica playfully rolled her eyes. “Parties are parties, but whatever I guess.”

Heather arched a brow at her. “To you, maybe.” She flicked the brush over Veronica’s cheeks ever so lightly. “Which explains why you were a nobody for all those years.”

Veronica gave an amused huff. “You got me there.”

For the first time that night, a ghost of a smile hovered on Heather’s lips. It wasn’t there. Not really, but it was enough to cause a fluttering sensation in Veronica’s chest, if not for a brief moment before Heather followed her gaze.

“Stop doing that,” she suddenly snapped, though she refused to stop painting foundation on her face. Veronica blinked at her.

“Doing what?”

“ _Looking at me,_ ” she hissed bitterly. “You’ve been doing it for two weeks straight now.”

Veronica bit the inside of her cheek.

“You seemed to be just fine with it last week,” she muttered. Anger flashed in Heather’s gaze, and the brush was pulled away from her.

“I wasn’t,” she spat. Veronica looked unconvinced.

“Sorry that I was unable to recognize that you pinning me up against the wall and shoving your tongue down my throat was a way to show disapro-”

Her words were blocked by Heather slamming her hand on her mouth. This just flared up more annoyance in Veronica’s chest, and she grabbed Heather’s hand and pulled it away.

“For fuck’s sake- _there’s no one around, Heather!_ ”

“I don’t give a damn!” she fired back. “You don’t need to keep reminding me!”

Veronica scoffed. “Since when have I _reminded_ you?” she argued. “I haven’t brought it up since!”

Heather held her gaze for a moment, as if she was realising that Veronica may have been right, before she shook her head and slapped the lid of the foundation back on it’s container, then snatched up a dark grey eye shadow pallet.

“You don’t need to,” she muttered, taking a smaller brush and skimming it over the eye shadow. “You looking like you want to fuck me _constantly_ is enough.”

Veronica was taken aback.

“Who said I wanted to _fuck_ you?” she spat, slightly disgusted at the suggestion. Heather gave a cruel laugh.

“It didn’t need to be said,” she growled, leering closer. The rage bubbling in Veronica’s chest suddenly evaporated, replaced by the quickening beat of her heart as Heather loomed even closer, forcing her to lean back so that they wouldn’t end up closing the gap. She admitted that part of her wanted to, but she knew that would be an awful, awful idea in this situation.

Heather finally stopped when she was centimeters apart from the brunette, her heated breath grazing her lips as she spoke.

“Like I said, Sawyer,” she murmured. “You’ll be six feet under if you keep this up tonight.”

Veronica gulped, mustering all the power she had to resist pressing her lips up against the Demon Queen’s. But fuck, it would be _so_ easy to.

“So, listen to me,” Heather commanded her, her voice low, almost a whisper. “None of… _this_ tonight,” she gestured to Veronica’s current state; leaning back as Heather towered over her, all heat rushing to her face, “because pushing your luck at a Remington party is a death wish.”

She finally pulled back, returning to her original position on the bed. Veronica felt like she could breathe again when she felt cold air returning to her lungs.

“Understand?” Heather asked. Veronica nodded slowly.

“Good.” Her hand returned to hold up her chin, though this time her grip was more firm. Clearly she had yet to calm down. “Close your eyes.”

Veronica did just that, allowing Heather to do her work.

 

* * *

 

Their journey there had been close to silent. They had shared a brief conversation about the time and them stopping by Seven Eleven for snacks, but that was it. Veronica was being choked by the tension in the air.

She had known she’d been falling head over heels for Heather. The reasons for doing so were still fuzzy to her; she’d guessed that it was all down to sexual attraction. It had to be. Heather, _repeat after me,_ is _not_ a nice person. So for Veronica to suddenly begin gushing over her made her feel like more and more of a fucking idiot with each passing second.

It was made worse by the fact that none of this was brought on by her. It was _Heather_ who had made the first move. Hell, it was _Heather_ who’d made any sort of move on her at all. Veronica wouldn’t play with fire, she only welcomed its warmth. Apparently she was an idiot, though, since she was less like a cat next to a fireplace and more like a moth launching itself into the flames.

Being thrown forward slightly as the car came to a halt was what snapped Veronica out of her thoughts. She looked out the window, and saw that they were at the building. Without saying anything, Heather opened the door to her driver’s seat, followed by Veronica doing the same to the passenger’s.

She came to stand next to Heather, who was scanning the street for something.

“What are you looking for?” Veronica asked.

“Heather and Heather,” she simply replied. Eventually her eyes settled on a familiar green jeep a few cars down from them. “Looks like they’re here already.”

Heather then began to make her way to the building, Veronica trailing close behind.

“Wait, if you’ve brought both of your cars,” Veronica asked, picking up her pace to begin walking beside Heather, who didn’t even look at her. “Then who’s driving them home?”

“Heather and I. Neither of us are drinking tonight.”

Veronica gave her a surprised look.

“You? Heather Chandler? Not drinking?” she gaped jokingly, doing her very best to lighten the mood shared under the looming storm cloud hovering above them. “Shocking.”

Heather didn’t appear to be amused. “I’m not risking vomiting tonight.”

A sudden understanding hit Veronica. It must have been awkward enough for the Queen Bee to have vomited last week in a party, so she definitely wasn’t going to risk it here.

She stayed quiet for the rest of the journey there.

The room that she was lead to was dimly lit, filled with students with a more wider range in age. It wasn’t like the other parties she had went to, filled with immature teenagers who would chug any alcohol in sight - many of these students were probably legally able to buy their own drinks.

 _Damn, wonder what that’s like?_ she pondered.

Her attention was then drawn to two slightly older males making their way towards them. Heather stopped, as if she were expecting them already.

“Hello, ladies,” the taller male said, stopping just in front of them. “You must be Veronica,” he nodded to her. “Heather’s spoken all about you.”

Veronica _forced_ herself not to blush at the idea of Heather talking about Veronica in a positive light when she wasn’t around.

“Has she, now?” She raised her brows. “I wonder what the impression is.”

“Pretty good, I’d say,” he replied, oblivious to the fluttering in her chest.

“This is David,” Heather said, leaning closer to Veronica’s ear.

“And this is Brad,” David said, gesturing to the shorter male next to him.

“Right,” she nodded awkwardly, unsure why this information was important.

“You can leave your coats on the floor,” David said, gesturing to the pile of coats next to the door. Both girls obliged, Veronica taking off her black jacket and Heather taking off her red cardigan.

“You two wouldn’t happen to know where Heather and Heather are, would you?” Heather asked. “We lost them on the road.”

An odd lie on Chandler’s part. They’d taken a completely separate route from Heather and Heather.

“Oh, near the bar, I’d say,” David said, head turning towards what Veronica could assume was the direction of the bar. “No need to hurry though, they’re not leaving any time soon I don’t think.” Both he and Brad glanced back at the pair, a glint in their eyes that caused a slight discomfort in Veronica.

“I’m gonna go find them,” she told them, slipping away from the group. From the corner of her eye, she could see Heather staring after her, and heard her say,

“You know where to find us.”

 _Heather, fuck off,_ she wanted to say. She didn’t want them following her around.

Heather was quick to catch up to her.

“What do you think your doing?” she hissed, having to lean over to her ear ever so slightly. “You’re trying to make a good impression, aren’t you?”

Veronica gave her an odd look, and realised she had went about half an hour without making eye contact with her up until that moment.

“Seems like you did the work for me.” She shrugged. Heather’s mouth twitched in response.

“At least try and hold it up, then.”

Veronica just rolled her eyes, then continued to weave in and out of the many students lingering around in the room. Eventually, she spotted what looked like the bar.

She stopped to try and spot a glimpse of yellow or green clothing, or at least, whatever their clothes may look like in the intense red lighting.

Soon her eyes landed on the familiar face of Heather McNamara, who was sitting next to who she could now see was Heather Duke, who she hadn’t recognized due to facing away from her. McNamara caught her gaze and beamed at the sight of her and gave her a wave. Veronica smiled, making her way over to them. Duke had also turned around to meet her and Heather, and gave a small wave as well.

“Hey, guys!” McNamara greeted, taking a sip from a glass of beer. Chandler eyed the glass and gave a chuckle.

“You a fan of beer now, Heather?”

McNamara giggled. “You got me hooked!” She took another gulp.

“I don’t understand either of you,” Duke muttered, sipping on a glass of water. “Veronica, back me up.”

Veronica gave a confused look. “On what?”

“Beer is great!”

“Beer is terrible!”

Both McNamara and Duke turned to look at each other after speaking simultaneously. Veronica giggled.

“It’s alright, I guess.”

“Fuck off,” Duke muttered.

“Wanna sit down, guys?” McNamara gestured to the seat next to her, to which Veronica eagerly obliged. She hopped onto the stool, while watching Chandler take the seat next to Duke - furthest away from Veronica.

“How are you liking it so far, Veronica?” McNamara spun around on her stool to face her, some of her beer tipping over the glass as she did so.

“I mean, I only just got here, so right now I’m neutral.” _Perhaps I’d have a more positive outlook if Heather wasn’t constantly breathing down my neck._

She paused.

_As in, the metaphorical sense._

“I’m sure you’ll love it,” McNamara assured her. “Better than any party thrown by Kurt or Ram.”

“To be fair,” Duke chimed in. “A five year old’s birthday party could be considered better than Kurt or Ram.”

Veronica and McNamara both laughed. McNamara a little harder than Veronica.

“Say,” Veronica glanced at McNamara. “When did you two get here?”

“About half an hour ago, why?” Duke sipped her water.

“Just wondering how Heather’s already acting tipsy,” she said, nodding to the glass of beer in her hand. The blonde let out a tumble of giggles in response.

“Why the hell did you get here so early?” Chandler asked.

“You said to get here early?” Duke responded, as if it were obvious. In the low light, Veronica could see her blue eyes roll.

“Early for us means on time, not _early_.”

Duke whipped her head over to McNamara. “See? I told you!”

McNamara held up a hand in defense. “I just wanted to be sure!”

Veronica gave another chuckle.

“You look nice, by the way!” McNamara said, smiling at her. Veronica gave a grateful look.

“Thanks. Heather did most of the work.”

“Aww!” McNamara tilted her head, shooting Chandler a sweet look. “That was nice of you!”

Chandler stared back at her with an unreadable expression.

Veronica then glanced at what Heather and Heather were wearing, as she hadn’t paid any attention before. McNamara was wearing a hell of a lot of yellow - a frilled yellow top, a slightly darker blazer and a loose yellow skirt. Duke wore an emerald coloured dress - the type that had a split on one of her thighs, like show curtains.

“You both look great,” Veronica told them. McNamara grinned at her, and the corners of Duke’s lips quirked up.

“Thanks,” Duke said.

“I’ll say,” a voice suddenly sounded from behind Veronica, making her jump in surprise. She whipped her head around, and her heart sank when she locked eyes with Brad, who was leaning against the wooden stand. “Speaking of beauty, I was thinking it looked pretty nice outside. Don’t suppose you’d like to take a walk?”

Veronica’s eye twitched, and she forced a plastic smile, one that mimicked Heather Chandler’s usual expression when she spoke with the country kids back at school.

“Thanks, but I’d like to settle down first.” She gave a side glance to the Heathers. “I just got here, anyway.”

A glint of disappointment could be seen in his eyes, but it soon faded in favour of a cocky grin.

“Well, you know where to find me,” he said, his voice sounding slimy to Veronica’s ears. He then sauntered off, buried in the crowd.

_I mean, I don’t, but I don’t care either so nothing is lost._

“Looks like someone’s interested in you,” Duke commented. Veronica’s nose scrunched up in disgust.

“He’s gonna be very disappointed, then.”

“What’s wrong with him?” McNamara asked.

“Just gives me frat boy vibes, is all.” She shrugged. “He’s not even that attractive.”

She heard Chandler give a scoff. “Of course, your type includes looking like an emo drug dealer you’d find in the back alley wielding knives.”

Duke laughed, McNamara gave a snicker. Veronica just snorted.

“For fuck’s sake, I don’t have a thing for JD!”

“You’ve been talking to him a lot more lately,” Duke mentioned.

“Yeah, because we had a mutual friend who now goes to our school.”

The Heathers collectively giggled. She rolled her eyes at their immaturity.

Regardless of her friends’ quips, Veronica found herself enjoying their company. Considering they were surrounded by folks who were older than her, along with being complete strangers, she knew that she wouldn’t be able to cope had she been alone. She dreaded the thought of what could have happened had Heather Chandler been the only one with her, since she knew that the red-head would have ditched her as soon as they walked in. That’s just what she did.

Veronica had gotten caught up with a conversation slacking off Kurt and Ram with Duke and McNamara (and was enjoying every second of it), that she hadn’t noticed that Chandler had turned around to speak to someone who had gotten comfy on the stool next to her.

“God, I would’ve loved to see that,” Veronica cackled. “Seeing Ram get kicked in the nuts is all I’m living for.”

Duke gave a cocky huff. “Shouldn’t have ditched us, then!”

The brunette pouted. “You gotta let me catch a break from these parties, y’know.”

“And to be fair,” McNamara said, patting Veronica on the shoulder. “She didn’t miss much.”

“I suppose. Perhaps you gained by ditching, if anything,” Duke snickered.

Veronica hummed. “Why am I not surprised that Kurt threw a shit party?”

“A mystery,” Duke said, her tone thick with mockery. Not her usual mockery, though, but rather a shared distaste she and Veronica shared for the two jocks, something that had developed ever since their dumbass double date.

Veronica was about to crack another joke about the boys, but movement from behind Duke caught her eye. For the first time in the past fifteen or so minutes, she looked at Chandler, who had stood up from her seat. From behind her, the familiar face of David began to stalk off into some random direction, which was then slowly followed by Chandler. Veronica stared after them, an odd feeling growing in her chest.

By how there was a burning flaring up in her heart, she assumed it was a twinge of jealousy. She knew where the two were going - she’d witnessed this many times before. So yes, Veronica was a little envious of David’s position. Just a little.

But it was her envious glare that picked something up. Something odd.

She knew Heather Chandler. She’d been watching how she acted and how she moved for the past two weeks of what she’d call a sexual awakening.

Heather Chandler was confident. She was dominant. She made sure everyone knew that with each stride she took. Each sway of her hips. She would always hold her head high so that she would stare down everyone who walked past.

So when she saw Heather take small, nervous steps, her shoulders stiff and her head tilted down with her locks covering her face, a dreadful pit her her stomach began to swallow her. Veronica’s gaze was stuck to the girl as she followed David into the crowd, right up until she was out of sight. To the naked eye, this may be normal. One would look at her and think there was nothing out of the ordinary.

But not Veronica.

She subconsciously began to tap the wooden stand with her finger frantically, her eyes still flickering over the crowd in hopes that Heather would return in all her glory. But that didn’t happen. It didn’t happen for the next five minutes, because of course it didn’t.

Both Duke and McNamara would try and drag her back into the conversation, but would only get a one word answer out of her. Her mind was elsewhere. It was busy with the anxious churning in her gut.

“Uhh-” Veronica suddenly blurted out, turning to Heather and Heather. “Where did Heather go?”

Duke gave her an odd look.

“Off somewhere with some dude. Nothing out the ordinary.”

Her mind strongly disagreed.

“Right…” Veronica muttered, not taking her eyes off of the crowd.

“Say, ‘Ronica,” McNamara spoke up, completely oblivious to the worries buzzing around her head. “Wanna do shots with me? I feel alone in my drunken state.” She gulped the last bit of her beer and wiped the foam off the sides of her mouth with the back of her hand.

“I-” Veronica was busy chewing on her lip. “I’ll be back,” is all she was able to say, hopping down from the stool. She didn’t even give Heather or Heather a second glance before leaping into the hive of university students.

She cursed the red lighting for tricking her at every turn into thinking that Heather was in sight.

 

* * *

 

Heather was lead into one of the first dorms that came into view. The sounds of students laughing and chugging beer and liquor had faded, and was now only muffled voices sounding from the floor below them.

David was kind enough to open the door for her, gesturing for her to go inside first. She gave a half smile as she passed him, and sat down on the couch awaiting for her.

She heard the door click, followed by David’s footsteps stalking towards her, and soon enough, she felt the space next to her grow warm. It vaguely smelled like cheap body spray, cigarettes and beer all mixed together in a choking smell - far different to the sweet scent she’d gotten far too used to over the past few weeks.

Speaking of which.

“Your friend wasn’t being all that cooporative,” David said, shifting closer to her until their thighs touched.

Heather avoided his gaze.

“She’s just nervous,” she muttered, trying to sound as annoyed at Veronica as she could.

“Ah, I see.” She felt a hand snake around her waist. “Good thing I can’t say the same about you then, huh?”

She dared to glimpse up at him, seeing a smirk on his cracked lips. She swallowed the anxiety building up in her throat, gripping onto her own wrist to keep herself still.

“Guess you don’t want to talk?” He sounded pleased. Heather watched him move closer, eager to close the gap between them.

Heather forced herself to not inch away, repeating in her mind like a mantra,

_Just go with it._

 

* * *

 

Veronica had no idea where she was going. She’d never been in this building before, so trying to find her way around the floor on top of meandering through the student body was damn near impossible.

It was through trial and error did she find the stairs.

She was positive there were no rooms that resembled a bedroom on the first floor. It was difficult to see in the midst of teenagers and university students, but she couldn’t find anything that would be a good place to have sex without having to strip in public. She internally said _fuck it_ and began to march up the stairs.

Her footsteps thudded at first, echoing off the walls. However, as she got closer to the top, she began to slow down. Something was weighing her down. A feeling of dread.

As she got to the first floor, reaching for the door that lead out into the dorms, she realised she was scared. At first, she thought it was because she was being ridiculous.

Heather knew how to take care of herself. She was worrying too much. Clearly, since the Heathers hadn’t even been concerned. If Heather found out about this, she’d probably ridicule her for giving into her worries.

But as she stepped out into the hallway, she realised she was wrong.

She wasn’t scared of Heather. She was scared _for_ her.

The emptiness of the hallway was haunting. No one here but her, and _maybe_ Heather and David.

Her steps were slow and cautious. All she could hear were muffled laughter and music from downstairs, along with the loud thumping of her heartbeat.

She considered calling out Heather’s name, but part of her convinced herself that it wasn’t the smartest idea.

Her feet carried her along the hallway, her movements still slow.

Then her heart skipped a beat when she heard a quiet voice from one of the rooms.

“Shouldn’t we get back to the party?”

Heather.

It was one of the doors to her left. Careful not to make a sound, she pressed her ear up against the closest door to her. Just her luck that her first guest was right - they were on the other side.

“We will. But you just look so beautiful tonight... I can’t control myself.”

It took all of Veronica’s power to not scrape her nails on the door out of pure rage, creating the worst fucking sound against the wood that she could muster.

There was a pause, and Veronica felt sick in the stomach, knowing they were probably shoving each other’s tongue in their mouths.

But then she heard Heather again. She almost didn’t recognize her, it was so soft and husky.

“Can’t you?”

 

* * *

 

David’s eyes rounded a little when she said that. She had shifted backwards further away from him, and had looked him straight in the eye.

 _The hell am I doing?_ she wanted to scream at herself. _You’re gonna fuck this up!_

“What do you mean?” He trailed a finger down her jawline. “Of course I can’t. That isn’t a problem, is it?”

Heather felt herself shudder in disgust.

“I-” Her words were caught in David’s mouth as he slammed into her, his slimy taste overwhelming her. At first she stayed put. She let it happen.

But the sickness in her stomach was becoming too much to bare.

She yanked her head away, grateful as all hell that her mouth could briefly escape his tongue.

“What’s wrong with you tonight?” Her heart sank as she heard frustration begin to leak from his tone. “I never took you for a fighter.” There was a sickening sound of amusement in his voice.

“I’m…” her words were lost. She wasn’t sure if she had any to begin with. “I’m not feeling good.”

“Perhaps I could make you feel better?” She caught her breath when she felt a hand begin to slither up her thigh.

_No._

She felt her hand begin to shake.

_No._

His hand disappeared under her skirt.

_Fucking stop._

As if it were a knee jerk reaction, Heather dragged her leg away from him, just in time before his hand finished its journey.

“Why are you being so difficult?” the irritation was very apparent at this point. Heather kept her gaze glued to the floor.

“I said I wasn’t feeling good,” she repeated, this time her tone becoming more firm. Her peripheral vision caught sight of a hand reaching towards her. She pressed herself up against the arm of the sofa, as far away from him as possible.

He still didn’t get the hint.

“You’ll feel better once we get started.”

Heather stabbed her lower lip with her teeth, desperate to just yell _bullshit_ , to run out the room and to find Heather, Heather and Veronica. But she resisted. She knew what would happen if she went through with that plan.

_I’ll be six feet under._

She felt his body warmth return to her, and she silently cursed the couch’s arm from blocking an easy escape.

She prepared herself as best as she could for another round of discomfort, when something interrupted them both.

A train of knocks hit the door, confusing the two of them.

David moved away from Heather and leaned towards the door.

“Who’s there?”

Heather’s heart stopped when she heard the seductive voice slither into the room.

“It’s Veronica.”

Heather glimpsed at David, who had gained an excited grin.

“Come on in.”

Heather watched as Veronica slowly opened the door and stepped into the room. She was holding a smirk that Heather had never seen on the girl before.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she said, beginning to swirl some strands of chocolate coloured hair around her finger. “It’s just, I was looking for Brad, but I overheard you both.” She took a few steps forward, edging closer to the couch. “And I just got the idea, if you were up to it…” A sly simper crawled onto her lips. “Perhaps I could join in?”

Heather was fucking _stunned_. She gaped at her in awe, all the while David was loving every second of it.

“I thought wrong about you friend, Heather,” David chuckled, standing up.

_Apparently I did too._

“Before anything though-” Veronica held out a hand when David began to approach her. “Perhaps go fetch Brad? I just feel so guilty leaving him out.” She pouted, glancing at the open door. “I think he went upstairs to grab some weed or something.”

David grinned, and began to make his way towards the door.

“No worries, my dear.” He stopped just under the door frame to wink at her. “I’ll be back soon, ladies. I wouldn’t want to keep you waiting.” He then disappeared behind the wall.

 _I would,_ Heather mused, before marching over the the brunette and grabbing her wrist.

“Veronica, what the _fu-_ ”

She was cut off when Veronica dragged her gaze away from the door and turned to face Heather, and it was as if someone had flicked a switch. She stared at her, eyes full of concern, a serious frown on her lips.

“Come on,” she then said, twisting her wrist around so that she was the one gripping Heather, rather than the other way around. Before Heather could even _think_ of questioning her, she was dragged out of the room and towards the stairs.

It was about half way downstairs that Heather was able to form words.

“Veronica, what the hell are you doing?” She tried to free her wrist from the brunette’s firm grasp, but it wouldn’t budge. Instead, she quickened her pace so that she’d be standing up against her. She almost fell forward when Veronica suddenly stopped just at the bottom of the stairs, just out of sight from the rest of the party.

“Are you okay?” Veronica finally let go of her wrist and brought her hands up to rest on her shoulders. Heather was taken aback by the genuine concern she heard in her voice.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Her voice faltered in trying to sound indifferent. Veronica stared up at her.

“You seemed…” Her words trailed off and her hand fell to her own. “You’re shaking.” She caught her breath when the brunette wrapped her fingers around her palm into a gentle hold. She wasn’t looking up at her anymore, instead her mocha brown gaze was glued to her hand.

Heather was eventually able to form a sentence.

“I’m fine.”

Veronica whipped her head up to face her.

“We need to leave,” she said, her voice bold. Heather scowled at her.

“Hell no!” she spat, snatching her hand back. Was Veronica fucking dense?

She expected her to argue. Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest, and her tone suddenly became dismissive.

“Alright. Let’s go back upstairs and finish that threesome, then.”

Something churned in Heather’s gut.

“Fuck no.”

Veronica arched her brows at her.

“What’s it going to be, Heather?” She took a step towards her. “You and I both know they’ll just come looking for us if we stay.” Her eyes became more… sad? Scared? Heather wasn’t sure. All she knew was that Veronica was now holding both of her hands, her thumbs stroking the back of her hand. “I’m not asking to leave, Heather. I’m asking _you_ to leave.”

Heather held her gaze for a few moments, though it seemed to drag out for hours. She was trying to muster up what she _should_ have said.

_You’re a pillowcase._

_You don’t just_ leave _a Remington party._

_We have a reputation to uphold._

No matter how hard she tried, however, none of those words came out. Instead, she choked out a quiet,

“Okay.”

Veronica offered a sympathetic smile, before opening the door that lead out into the main room, still holding one of her hands. Heather just blindly followed.

 

* * *

 

Veronica, in the buzz of everything, was trying to remember the way out, as well as where she and Heather had left their coats. _Next to a door leading to a hallway,_ she reminded herself. _That hallway’s our way out._

In the midst of her thoughts, she hadn’t noticed that she had ended up walking in the direction of the bar, where she found Heather and Heather, still sitting in the same seats as before.

 _Right,_ Veronica thought. _I should probably tell them what’s happening._

Still holding onto Heather, she stumbled over to them and placed a hand on Duke’s shoulder, causing her to turn around.

“ _There_ you are!” Duke said, twisting around on her stool to face them. “I was starting to think some dude had dragged you both in a dorm for a threesome.”

It was supposed to be a joke, and Veronica knew that. But the feeling of Chandler freezing up in her grip only made her frown.

“Guys…” She lowered her voice until it was only just loud enough for Heather and Heather to hear, with the assistance of her leaning closer to them both. “Heather and I are ditching.” Despite knowing she had sent David up to the top floor of the university, she was still on edge. She couldn’t stop thinking about him appearing out of nowhere. Her gaze darted around her, trying to affirm to herself that it was just her anxiety talking.

“Ditching?” Duke echoed, sounding shocked.

“How come?” McNamara asked, looking concerned.

“We…” Veronica bit her lip, running her thumb over Heather’s shaking knuckles. “Doesn’t matter. We’re just not feeling too good.”

McNamara seemed oblivious to the obvious lie, but Duke was able to catch on, and leaned over into her ear.

“Has this got anything to do with David?” she whispered. Veronica slowly nodded, grateful that one of them had caught on. Duke shot her a look of understanding. “You making a run for it?”

Veronica nodded again.

Duke glanced at McNamara, then back to Veronica.

“If he comes looking, we’ll… um…”  Her mouth twitched while she tried to think up some sort of plan. “I dunno, but if he comes back I’ll try to not hint that you’ve ditched. Sound good?”

Veronica gave the most thankful look she could muster. She knew that Duke could be compassionate at times - take how she had taken care of her after hitting her head hard during their double date with Kurt - but it was a shock to see her show any form of concern when Chandler was involved.

Still, she couldn’t think about it for too long. She could only thank them both, before pulling Heather away in the direction that she was pretty sure was the way out.

“What did they say?” Heather asked, coming up to walk next to her. “I didn’t hear.”

“They’re acting as our cover up,” Veronica replied, a wave of relief flooding through her when she saw the familiar pile of clothes next to an entrance to a hallway. She picked up the pace and shoved her hand into the pile, scrounging around for their coats. She finally came into contact with Heather’s read cardigan and handed it over, also releasing her hand in the process. It didn’t take long for her to find her own jacket and throw it on as quick as she could.

“Alright, let’s bail,” Veronica said, standing up. She went to grab Heather again, but realised that she was no longer standing behind her. Confused, she glanced around, trying to find the girl in red.

Then a hand grabbed her arm, and she swung around to see Heather. Good, she was still here.

“We need to go a different way,” is all she said, before pulling Veronica away from the way out.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

Heather glanced back to the hallway.

“Brad’s there. We need to go out back.”

Veronica gave a nod of understand, letting Heather lead the way to wherever ‘out back’ was.

She took note of how Heather would keep to the edge of the rooms, in the darkest corners. It was an odd sight to Veronica - Heather _always_ stayed in the spotlight.

They had returned to the room that lead to the stairs, and stopped. Heather was looking around, still gripping onto Veronica’s sleeve, looking for the correct way out.

She then felt Heather freeze. Veronica followed her gaze over to the door that lead the the stairs, and saw that David had stepped out into the very same room. A dangerous mixture of anger and fear began to bubble in her chest, causing her to wrap her arm around Heather’s and launch her and herself forward, causing them both to stumble behind a group of oblivious teenagers. They turned a few of their heads when they tripped and fell, though.

They must have thought they were just drunk, since they paid them no more attention other than a few laughs and eye rolls.

Veronica looked down and pulled Heather off the floor, wrapping an arm around her while she scanned the room for any sight of David. It was hard to be calm, what with her heart racing with adrenaline, but she felt a small sense of relief when she saw him go into the next room. Clearly he hadn’t seen them in the dark corner of the room.

She finally felt safe taking her eyes off of the room and back to Heather, who was staring at the door. Clearly she had been watching David leave along with her.

And fucking hell, Veronica had never seen Heather look _worried_ before. A normal emotion she’d seen on everyone, even Heather and Heather - but not _Heather_.

That thought was enough for Veronica to haul her back onto her feet and drag her out to what she had to assume was the way out. It was a dark hallway, the only light coming out of it being at the end, where moonlight skimmed the glass door.

 _That’s our escape,_ Veronica thought, not daring to let go of Heather as she picked up her pace, until they were both full-on sprinting down the hallway. Veronica slammed into the door, swinging it open.

The cold air hit them both in a harsh wave. They both paused to look around, trying to figure out a way down to the street where the car was parked. That same street curved around the university, so it wouldn’t take them long to find their car, but there was no clean way down to the street from where they stood. Only a grass slope leading down to a wall.

Heather suddenly grabbed Veronica’s wrist and lead the way down the slope, using her to keep balance on the way down. On her way down, Veronica found herself grateful that she had chosen to not wear heels tonight, though she couldn’t say the same for Heather.

“ _Shit,_ ” the girl cursed as she stumbled forward, dangerously close to the wall that guarded a drop onto the pavement. Veronica instinctively grabbed onto her before she could topple forward, latching onto her waist and shoulder. Heather grabbed her hands to make sure she didn’t slip out of the grip and tip over the wall and onto the concrete below.

They paused for a second, holding each other in that position. The hand Veronica held on her shoulder shifted around closer to her chest, out of some odd fear that she’d drop the taller girl.

As she did, she felt it. The racing heart beat constantly slamming into Heather’s ribs.

“Come on,” Veronica then said, keeping her voice calm. “I’ll go first and I’ll help you down.”

“I don’t need any help down,” Heather snapped, though her voice was hoarse. Veronica didn’t listen, and opted to take the lead. She sat down on the stone wall and hopped onto the pavement below. It wasn’t a big jump, but doing it in heels didn’t sound ideal.

She turned around and held out her arms. “Those shoes were expensive, and I refuse to let you break them and hurt yourself.”

Heather glared at her for a moment, before sighing and sitting down on the wall, reaching out and grabbing onto Veronica’s arms, while she grabbed onto Heather’s hips. Using all her strength (though not all of it was needed) Veronica lifted Heather off the wall, all the while she moved her arms up to wrap around her neck. _For balance,_ Veronica had to remind herself.

She gracefully set Heather down on the ground, her heels and herself still in tact. And for the first time in the past twenty minutes or so, she wasn’t sure how long, Veronica felt like she could breathe. _Properly_.

She let out a long, well-deserved exhale, all the while completely forgetting that her hands were still on Heather’s hips.

And perhaps Heather forgot that her hands were still around Veronica’s neck.

When the realisation hit her, she didn’t take her hands away. Instead she looked up at Heather who’s eyes locked with hers.

In the low-lit street, Veronica could see that Heather’s usual sky blue eyes were now clouded and dull. She frowned at the sight.

“Let’s go home, Heather,” she murmured. Heather’s mouth twitched, then she nodded, arms slipping off of Veronica. She admitted that she already missed the touch of her, but it just wasn’t a concern right now.

The walk back to the car was silent. Heather’s movements were noticeable to Veronica, and only to Veronica. The way she sauntered rather than strided, twiddled with her thumbs rather than swaying her shoulders in sync with her legs.

She never thought she’d say this, but she wanted the Demon Queen back.

Eventually they made it to the car, and they sat still for a drawn out silent sixty seconds.

The Heather spoke. “Your house, then?”

Veronica whipped her head up and shot her an odd look.

“No.”

Heather gave her a glazed look.

“What do you mean ‘no’?” Her voice sounded as if she were trying to sound as coercive as it usually did, but it ended up sounding flat.

“Let me stay over.” Heather gave a confused look. “I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I said I was fine,” she muttered, her tone not matching with her words. Veronica gave a huff of disbelief.

“Heather-” she reached forward to touch her shoulder. Heather flinched, and looked as if she were considering slapping her hand away, but she eventually relaxed, letting her shoulders droop.

She didn’t say another word, only turned the ignition key and pulled out of the parking space on the side of the street, beginning the drive home.

The drive seemed to fly by, time merging together in a blurry pulp. Veronica’s vision grew fuzzy as she stared at the dark road ahead, hardly any cars passing by.

With her adrenaline slowly draining, she began to feel her body growing more and more fatigued as time went by, but she refused to allow her lids to droop. Sleep could wait. Heather could not.

Before she knew it, the pair were pulling into Heather’s driveway, and were clambering out of the vehicle. They were both still silent as they did so.

Veronica patiently waited for Heather to reach into her handbag and pull out her house keys, then stepped into the house when the door opened. She stood in the porch to let Heather close and lock the door behind them, then let her lead the way to wherever she was going.

She got a sense of deja vu when passing her living room on her way to the stairs.

Soon enough they were at the top of the stairs and heading to her bedroom, and it was only when Veronica stepped into the room that time seemed to slow down.

Heather stopped in the middle of the room, facing away from her. The silence shared between them was heavy.

“Fucking dipshits…” she heard her suddenly mutter. Veronica’s brows quirked up.

“Heather?”

“Fuck… _fuck_ ,” the strawberry blond began to hiss, still facing away from her. Veronica took a cautious step forward.

“Heather…”

“What in the ever-living _fuck_ did I just do?” Heather suddenly swung around, her eyes blazing. Veronica took a step back, startled by the sudden raise in voice. “I just left a Remington party. _Early_.

“It’ll be fine, Heather-”

“Shut up, Veronica!” Heather screamed, gripping the sides of her head with her hands. Veronica just stared at her with her mouth clamped shut.

“This is your fault…” she heard her mutter. Veronica’s eyes widened, and her face scrunched up in dismay.

“ _My_ fault?” she echoed, now raising her voice. Heather glared at her, her eyes dangerously pained.

“You’re the one who interrupted the…” Her voice trailed off for a second. “You interrupted us!”

“Yeah, to get _you_ out of there!” she snapped, making the bold move to step towards her. Heather snarled at her.

“I didn’t need you to! It was fine! I was fine!” Veronica heard her voice grow more chagrined, and her eyes dropped to the floor as she continued to speak. It was almost as if she wasn’t even speaking to her anymore. “Everything’s fucked over…”

Veronica caught her eye and held it with a stern gaze. “If you’re so concerned about your reputation,” she began, taking another step forward. “Then why don’t you go back?”

Heather stared at her, a fearful glint appearing in her eyes. She remained silent.

“Exactly.” Veronica’s tone softened, and she took one last step towards her. “Heather, listen-” she reached out to hold her hand, but she swung out of her grip and turned her back on her.

“I should’ve just went along with it,” she muttered, crossing her arms over her abdomen.

“Shut up, Heather.” Veronica’s voice was quiet, but not enough for Heather to not shoot her a warning glare from over her shoulder. Despite it, however, no fear of any sort sparked in Veronica. It was as if, for this moment alone, she was immune to Heather Chandler’s intimidation tactics.

“Do you remember what I told you?” Veronica then asked, debating whether or not to rest a hand on Heather’s arm. She opted not to, for now. “We were drunk, but…”

“Of course I fucking remember,” she barked. “And it’s easier said than done, Sawyer.”

Veronica gazed at her sadly. “I know that, but…”

“But nothing.” She half turned to her, keeping her head down. “You can talk all you like about avoiding this kind of shit, Veronica. I don’t _care_ .” Her gaze once again dropped to the carpet. “Because you’re not _me_ . _You_ don’t know what it’s like.” She snapped her head away from her, any view of her face being covered by her loose ginger locks.

Veronica frowned.

“I know, Heather, but…” She chewed on her lip. “I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again. I may not know what it’s like, but I don’t want you to either.”

Heather remained quiet.

“And I know you’re probably mad at me, but…” Her nose scrunched up. “As if I was going to leave you to be date ra-”

“ _Shut up!_ ” Heather spat. “It wasn’t _rape_ , Veronica.” She refused to look at the brunette. “Rape is being dragged in an alleyway, getting ganged up on or being drugged-” She shook her head. “It’s not… it’s-”

“It’s when you don’t say ‘yes,’” Veronica cut in. “That’s all, Heather. It’s not about the setting. It’s about the consent.”

There was a thick, drawn out pause. Heather was completely still for the next dozen heartbeats, right up until she brought a hand up to her eye, giving it it a quick rub with her knuckle. Veronica assumed she had an eyelash in her eye, or an itch.

Then she did it again.

And then she sniffed.

“Heather?” Veronica’s eyes widened. Heather clamped her hand over her mouth, as if trying to silence herself. Veronica’s hand darted forward to touch her arm, being as gentle as she could.

She could feel her trembling. It wasn’t like before, when her hands had been shaking from adrenaline. No, this was different. She could feel her shivering, her shoulders rising and falling in an uneven pattern with each sporadic breath.

And then she heard a lone whimper.

Veronica took a moment to gape at the sight.

Heather Chandler. Heather _fucking_ Chandler was _crying_ , right in front of her.

Heather avoided Veronica’s eyes at all cost, keeping her head turned away from her, her hand trying to block out any more sounds from escaping. Veronica was fucking speechless, and could do the only thing she had the ability to do in that moment.

Pull her in for a hug.

As soon as she had her arms around the taller girl, loud sobs came tumbling out of her mouth and crashing into her shoulder, her cries becoming muffled. Veronica felt her shoulder begin to grow wet with the tears pouring from Heather’s eyes. It was as if feeling her tears confirmed once and for all that this was real, and that Heather Chandler really _was_ crying on her shoulder right now. And that made her heart sink into an empty pit in her stomach.

“Oh my God, Heather, I’m…” She brought a hand up to gently stroke her hair. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

The grip around her torso that she had hardly known was there tightened, shutting her up. Veronica just gave a sorrowful look, before resting her chin on Heather’s shoulder, listening to her pained sobs echo against the walls of her abnormally large bedroom.

“It’s okay…” she murmured into her ear, running her fingers through her wavy locks.

Heather suddenly lifted her head up, glaring at Veronica with eyes surrounded by smudged eye shadow and running mascara.

“It’s not fucking okay,” she bawled, cries still invading her speech. “That’s all I am. A walking, breathing sex doll.” Another load of sobs escaped her. “I shouldn’t be surprised that every boy will jump on me as soon as I walk in the room.” Her head flopped back onto Veronica’s shoulder, her eyes hidden. “I’m always okay with it. Fuck me whenever, I don’t care.”

Veronica bit her lip, tightening her grip on her protectively.

“So why not tonight, hmm? Why couldn’t I have just-” she let out a pained wail, a sound that Veronica had no idea that the Queen Bee was capable of. “I should’ve just went with it.”

It was that which flared up the fury in Veronica’s chest. She placed her hands on the girl’s shoulders and pushed her off, then cupped her face.

“Heather, _listen to me_ ,” she told her, her voice growing stern. Heather just stared at her, tears still rolling down her face and carrying her makeup along with them. “You shouldn’t have, and you should never have to.” Her thumbs began to stroke her cheeks, wiping the wet trails left behind by her tears. “If you don’t want to do something, then you _shouldn’t have to do it_.” Veronica heard those last few words get choked out.

It seemed Heather may have noticed, as her hands left her torso and were lifted up to wrap around her wrists.

“Never fucking feel like you have to go through something for the sake of your reputation,” a hand moved down to hold her drooping chin up. “And never think that you’re obliged to do anything _period_.” A ghost of a smile appeared on her lips. “Anyone who thinks that deserves a kick in the teeth.” The corner of her mouth quirked up. “And the balls.”

A sad huff of laughter escaped Heather’s lips. The sound brought a smile onto Veronica’s.

Then Heather frowned again and squeezed her eyes shut still sniffling, trying to hold back any more cries from coming out. Veronica’s brows knitted.

“You don’t need to stop crying, you know.”

She blinked open one glassy blue iris, before inhaling deeply and releasing a shaky, weak breath. Veronica sighed, then ran her fingers over Heather’s temples and around the the back, carrying her hair along with her hands in doing so.

“Do you want to sit?”

Heather’s lips twitched, before she shakily nodded. Veronica gave an empathetic smile, before taking her hand and guiding her to the bed. They sat down on the side, Heather allowing herself to rest her head on her shoulder. Her breaths began to slow down, becoming more steady each time. Veronica ran her hand up and down her back, burying herself into her rose-scented hair, her lids threatening to droop over her eyes.

“...Sorry.”

Her eyes shot open.

“What?”

“Sorry,” Heather’s voice spoke louder this time, her voice hoarse. “I’m sorry,” she repeated.

“Sorry for what?” Veronica murmured, hooking her arm around her side.

“This wasn’t your fault.” Heather shrugged once, before letting her shoulders slump. She buried her head into the crook of Veronica’s neck, her quivering breaths brushing over her skin. Veronica gulped. “So… sorry.”

A simper crawled onto Veronica’s lips, and she brought her hand up to lift Heather off of her shoulder by the chin. She locked eyes with her dulled blues, and gave a light sigh.

“I’m sorry for bringing it up,” she murmured, offering a guilty smile. “I just didn’t want-”

A finger closed her lips. Heather held her gaze.

“First of all, _I_ was the one who brought it up, so your apology is meaningless to me.” A hint of sarcasm seeped into her voice. Veronica didn’t hold back a light chuckle.

“Do I have anything to apologise for, then?”

Heather arched her brow. “Yes. For slamming into me when we were making a break for it.” While it was weak and ineffective, she gave her a look of mockery. “The fuck was that about?”

Veronica snorted, covering her snickering up with the back of her hand. “I didn’t mean to! I panicked, was all.”

Heather rolled her eyes, shifting a little closer to her. “I will say, though,” her smudged red lips formed something that resembled a smile. “Your little act that you put on for David was impressive.”

Veronica felt her cheeks heat up, her mind flashing back to the best ‘horny Veronica’ impression she had been able to muster. She laughed.

“I might’ve picked up the whole seductive act from you.”

She realised her mistake when she felt her tense up.

“I, uh-” she stammered, resting a hand on her arm. “I didn’t mean to-”

Heather just shook her head, and let out a solemn giggle. Veronica’s hand coiled back in response.

“You were convincing, is all I’m saying,” Heather continued. “You even fooled me.”

Veronica let out a chuckle. “That was the idea.” She then gave a huff. “Though, I could’ve punch that asshole square in the nose and his dick would’ve been hard.”

A warm giggle sounded from Heather. The sound was pleasant on the ear, and Veronica had to wonder why. She gazed at the girl as she laughed, her smile making her heart skip beats, the sound causing a fluttering sensation in her stomach. She had to wonder why such a basic action stood out to her so much.

Then the realisation slapped her in the face. Veronica had never seen Heather _genuinely_ smile, never mind laugh. She’d seen her smirk, cackle at one’s misery, mock someone’s mere existence right in their face. That’s all. She’d honestly started to think that any humanity she had left was buried six feet underground, if not deeper.

And yet here she was, laughing away at some dumb joke Veronica had made.

It was the first time that Veronica could ever consider Heather Chandler _cute_.

The moment was over all too soon, and eventually Heather lifted her gaze up to meet Veronica’s.

And for a second, Veronica forgot how to speak.

“You’re looking at me again,” she mused, dragging the brunette out of her thoughts.

“S-sorry, I just…” Her words were lost on her when she stared back into Heather’s eyes. Heather’s brows raised.

“You what?”

Veronica pursed her lips - quite tightly- before shrugging.

“I don’t know.”

Heather just let out a huff of an emotion that she couldn’t name, then shook her head.

“I’ve just never seen you laugh like that,” Veronica mumbled sheepishly. Heather shot her a weird look.

“It was just a laugh?”

“I know, but…” Veronica’s lips twitched while she tried to think of what to say. “I don’t know. It was weird.” She then flashed her an alarmed look, realising the implications in her words. “I-in a good way! It was cute!” Fuck. “N-no, I meant, not cute, as in- I meant-”

A wave of rich laughter came flooding from Heather’s lips again, drowning out Veronica’s messy stammering.  The brunette felt a hand gently nudge her jaw upwards, closing her mouth. The hand didn’t leave, and Veronica swallowed as she stared at Heather let out the last few giggles. It was hard to tell, but she was pretty sure her laughter wasn’t mocking her. It sounded too sweet.

Heather’s blue gaze flickered up to meet her brown, a twinkle of amusement still visible, if not for a heartbeat. While still there, it seemed to shed some light on the foggy pair of blue, revealing the pattern of cyan and indigo sprinkled in her irises. At this point, Veronica knew she was staring, but she didn’t care. Heather’s eyes were beautiful.

Then she saw them trail down. Down to something Veronica couldn’t see, but could make an educated guess. The thing she was staring at was what Veronica was currently biting.

She caught her breath when she felt the hand on her chin swivel round to the back of her head, nails gently scratching her skin on the way. She bit her lip harder, and suddenly she realised just how much she had missed the feeling of Heather on her. Almost two weeks without her touch was becoming more and more difficult, and it was so fucking hard to not fall forward and close the already small gap between them.

While gazing into Heather’s eyes, she saw a glint of conflict. As if she were debating with herself silently about… something.

And just like that, whatever the debate was ended, and she pounced. Her lips were on Veronica’s, and holy hell, it was amazing.

She breathed out through her nose as she felt Heather’s lips slide over hers, her bittersweet taste seeping into her mouth. She felt a light tug on her hair, and her hand climbed up to rest on Heather’s shoulder, her fingers curling around to gently hold her.

She felt the grip on her locks tighten, tugging her closer and deepening their kiss. Veronica could only smile against Heather’s lips, ravishing the feeling of the girl pressing her body up against hers, her warmth capturing her in a state of bliss. Her stray hand came to rest on her hip, which seemed to trigger a reaction out of her.

She felt Heather begin to move. Veronica wanted to know what she was doing, but she dared not break away from the kiss. Not even for a second. It was too good to lose.

A newfound warmth enclosed around her waist, along with a weight on her lap. Veronica blinked her eyes open, trying to see what was happening, but when she threatened to part from Heather, she found herself being pulled back in.

“Heather?” she whispered against her lips when Heather parted to take a breath. She only got a frustrated groan.

“Move back before I fall off,” she told her. Veronica moved back from her, and felt her whole body heat up when she realised that Heather had clambered onto her, and was now straddling her. She promptly shuffled back, giving Heather all the room she needed, and was immediately pulled back in, their lips smashing. This time it was rougher. Veronica felt teeth graze against her bottom lip, up until they clamped down on it, capturing her in their grip. She let out a whine as she felt Heather begin to suck, all the while her hand was on the small of her back, edging her closer. Veronica’s hand snaked around to Heather’s back, which would have been bare had she still not have her cardigan on.

She pinched the hem of the scarlet fabric, giving it a tug. It seemed Heather got the message, as she released Veronica’s bottom lip to straighten herself up and slide the clothing off of her shoulders. While she did, Veronica gazed up at the girl towering over her, stunned by the view. She was covering up the light emitted from the bulb on the ceiling, which was also veiled by a crimson shade. That crimson tinted the light with its colour, and in turn created a red outline around Heather’s figure, giving the illusion that she was glowing.

God, the sight was heart-stopping.

Heather hadn’t even pulled her cardigan off her last arm before Veronica lunged forward, catching Heather’s red lips with her own. Her hand found the sleeve of her cardigan and yanked it off, then snatched it from Heather and tossed it in some random direction. She felt the lips pressed against her own curl into a smirk.

“Someone’s desperate,” she murmured, flicking her tongue over her lips in a sickeningly teasing way.

“Fucking shut up-” Veronica gripped onto the black dress desperately, her lungs burning for air and her voice dry from her lack of breaths. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Heather’s response was to invade her mouth with her tongue, letting out a groan as she did so. Veronica gave a whine, one arm hooked around her shoulder while the other aimlessly traveled along her back, her fingertips stroking over the bare skin on her upper spine.

Her tongue intertwined with Heather’s, her flavour overwhelming her as she explored her. Her teeth would scrape Veronica’s lips in her attempt to go in deeper, and she felt Heather’s hands slither up Veronica’s side and under her jacket, then buried themselves under the clothing to smoothly slide it off. Veronica happily cooperated, and shook the clothes off her arms. And the entire time, neither parted from the kiss, both caught up in their heated battle with one another.

Veronica then felt a sense of emptiness when Heather abandoned her mouth, but was immediately made up for it when she felt her begin to pepper kisses, starting from the corner of her mouth, to her cheek, down her jawline and then to her neck. She let out a breathy laugh.

“Just as the last ones healed.”

She could feel Heather smirking against her skin, before the sharp pain jolted through her as teeth clamped down on her. Veronica whimpered when Heather refused to go, and then moaned when she began to suck. She then released her and caressed the bruise with her tongue, and continued to trail up to her ear, where she gave it a nip.

“Would you prefer me to stop?” Heather’s voice rang loud and clear, despite being a whisper. It shot a shiver down Veronica spine, and she buried a hand in her hair and pressed her lips right up against her.

“Fuck no,” she breathed. On cue, Heather bit her again, sucking on her _hard_. Veronica let out a moan. Somehow she had forgotten how amazing Heather was at pleasing her.

And that thought began to tie a knot in a gut. A pleasant knot.

Heather’s lips trailed down her neck and to her pulse point, where she nipped and sucked, luring more whines of pleasure from Veronica. Her fingers tangled with the red tresses, the scent of roses overwhelming her.

She felt Heather leave another mark on her neck, before she began to trail down to her collarbone.

Her bites were hard. Her kisses were sweet. Her hands were gentle. Her nails were rough.

And just to think, there was so much more of her that Veronica had yet to discover.

Heather pulled on her skin slightly when she pulled back, the pain echoing her touch. Veronica took the opportunity to press her lips against Heather’s yet again, pulling her in for a deep, affectionate kiss. Then she pulled away, but kept the gap between them as small as possible - their lips grazing over each other, their hot breath hitting each other with each pant.

Then Veronica kissed her again, only this time it was on the corner of Heather’s mouth. Then she hesitantly moved to her mascara-stained cheek. Then further along her cheek.

She paused at her jawline.

She pondered for a moment. She so desperately wanted to explore more of Heather, to kiss her and to _bite_ her, but she’d never went past the line that was her jaw. She felt as if she was stepping into no-man’s land.

Then Heather tilted her head up slightly and inched her closer with a hand pushing her head forward. Veronica’s lips landed just below her jawline, to which they then crawled further along her neck, then traveled down to her pulse point. Then she striked.

She heard Heather sharply gasp, the grip on her brown hair tightening and _pulling_. It was almost like Heather was pulling a switch, because something sparked in Veronica. Something hungry.

She bit down on Heather’s skin and sucked on it, a bitter flavour entering her mouth when she licked the flesh caught between her teeth. Heather gradually let out a groan, the sound rumbling against Veronica, and she finally let go, leaving a soft kiss in her wake. She then moved up her neck, nipping on her pale skin lightly, before biting down _hard_ just below her ear. Heather whined and held Veronica in place, keeping her up against her neck.

While she continued to suck, her hands began to travel where her lips could not. Starting from her shoulder, a hand trailed over Heather’s chest, her abdomen, over her hip and then stopped at her thigh to focus on moving her lips elsewhere - this time down to her collarbone. She was so desperate to hear Heather moan for her, and was pressing every button that she could find.

For or now, anyway.

Her hand continued its journey, slipping around her thigh and stopping at her ass, and was then when Veronica pulled her closer, their lower bodies pressing up against one another.

Heather’s hands found their way around the small of Veronica’s back, returning her gesture in pulling her close.

And just as Veronica was about to leave another mark, a shock of pleasure shot up her spine. Heather rolled her hips against hers in slow, enchanting movements. She sharply inhaled, leaving Heather’s neck to look up at the demon straddling her. She was immediately met with her lips colliding with her own, tongue forcing its way through. Veronica welcomed it, and slowly began to mimic Heather. Both of her hands on her ass, along with Heather’s hands on her lower back, Veronica did her utmost best to sync with Heather’s movements, parting from the kiss to sharply gasp each time she felt the most sensitive part of her come into contact with Heather. At first, that feeling was out of pure luck, but eventually it became constant. Her whole body was burning.

She could feel Heather’s hot, uneven breaths hit her lips, and it was only a matter of time until Veronica closed the painful gap between them. This time she was the one who slipped her tongue into Heather’s mouth, and she seemed to welcome it. And when their hips grazed each other in that particular spot, Heather moaned into her mouth.

Holy _shit_.

Veronica bit down on Heather’s lip and sucked. She sucked hard, and Heather let out a high pitched whine, one so different from her usual low, dominating voice. And fucking hell, the sound was beautiful.

The breath was suddenly knocked out of her when Heather’s hands shot up to her sides and shoved her backwards, her back hitting the soft mattress. And just like that, her reign of power was over, and Heather’s lips were biting at the untouched side of her neck.

She heard something thump onto the carpet, and with the way Heather’s legs were shifting, Veronica guessed that she had slipped her heels off, and realised she should do the same. She shoved her shoes off with her feet, her movements shaky as Heather was still nipping at her skin, trailing over towards her shoulder, only to be interrupted by the navy blue strap of her dress. As if angry that it had dared to get in her way, Heather’s hand darted up to grab the strap and slide it off of Veronica’s arm.

One side of her dress loose, Veronica could feel Heather’s hand run down her figure, then stopping when it reached the end of her shirt. Then, her cold hand slipped under to where there were no barriers. Veronica’s heart was fucking racing, and there’s no way Heather didn’t feel it when she skimmed over her chest, her nails scratching her in their wake. Veronica bit her lip so hard that it might bleed when she felt the hand slip under the last bit of clothing keeping Heather out.

“H-Heather…” Veronica whined under her electrifying touch, earning a coarse chuckle from her. Veronica’s hand began to trail back up Heather’s back, stopping to dig into her skin when she felt her _pinch_ her, which earned a guttural grunt from the girl. Her had continued up to the red bow looped around her neck, the only thing holding Heather’s dress up.

She latched onto it, but didn’t do anything. Partly because she was too focused on the tongue on her neck and the hand under her shirt, partly because she just wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure if making this small and yet bold move would be a bit too _stupidly_ bold or not.

In between her moans and her whines, she tried to choke out some sort of request to undress her, but Heather beat her to it.

“Do you need a fucking invitation?” she whispered harshly, pulling away from her. Veronica knew that she was half-joking when she saw the dazed grin plastered on her face, and she let out a breathy giggle.

“Yes,” she replied, her voice quiet. Heather stared down at her, the corners of her mouth quirking up as she held her gaze. Not breaking eye contact, she brought one had to the ribbon. With Veronica’s hand on one side and Heather’s on the other, then both pulled on the bow. It slipped out of its knot and drooped over Heather’s shoulders, and in turn her dress began to sag.

With how Heather slammed her lips back into Veronica’s and went back to caressing her, she knew that getting the dress off was up to her.

 

* * *

 

It was dark in Heather’s room. Only the faintest of street lights crawling through the window from outside could outline any silhouettes.

Veronica had practically watched it grow darker by the past hour. Or hours. She wasn’t entirely sure.

She knew it was absurd for her to not even try and get to sleep, especially since Heather’s mattress and pillow were ridiculously soft, but every time she had tried to close her eyes, they would just slowly open again.

It wasn’t the first time she had lay awake while snuggled up to a Heather. Hell, it wasn’t the first time she’d snuggled up to Heather Chandler.

Though, when you’re interlaced with a naked Heather Chandler under her duvet, with her arm around your body and her head buried in the crook of her neck and her heavy breaths hitting your bruised skin, sleeping is out of the question.

Veronica had been absent-mindedly running her fingers through the ginger tresses ever so slowly for the past while, with her eyes glued to the ceiling that she couldn’t even see.

Her body wanted to go to sleep. It was completely drained from tonight’s bizarre events, and the pain of the bite marks scattered all over her body were starting to sting.

Her mind wanted to do anything but. In all the time she was awake, one sentence was buzzing around her head like an insect.

_I just lost my virginity to Heather Chandler._

Had you come up to her on the first day of senior year and said that, she probably would have laughed harder than she had ever done before. Hell, if you’d come up to her about a few weeks ago and said that she would have had the same reaction.

And yet here she was, her nude body cuddled up next to Heather’s, in Heather’s bed.

And she wasn’t complaining.

Heather had been surprisingly gentle with her. Well, right up until Veronica begged her to be rough, and fuck, she knew how to deliver. Of course she did. It’s fucking Heather Chandler.

And you can only imagine the pride that swelled in Veronica’s chest when Heather had complimented her skills. A quick learner, she had called her. Damn, put that on her grave. Wear it like a medal: Heather Chandler told me I was good at sex, what did you do today?

It was all fun and games, up until she began to experience that thing that everyone experienced - late night thoughts over analysing everything that had happened over the past twenty four hours.

Maybe that’s why she held onto Heather so tight. She knew that tonight could’ve ended so much differently, had she not bothered to follow her. The more she thought about the ‘what if’s’ the closer she pulled Heather in. Heather was completely oblivious, of course. She was fast asleep, her chest rising and falling in a rhythmic pattern.

Veronica’s gaze drifted over to the girl nesting up against her neck, the corners of her mouth picking up. She looked so peaceful. The most peaceful she had been all night.

She leaned forward to plant a soft kiss on the top of her head, and Heather’s arm wrapped around Veronica’s torso tightened its grip. Whether that was a conscious decision on Heather’s part or not was up to debate.

She could hardly see any of the girl in the darkness, only a dim grey rim light outlining her figure. Regardless, Veronica thought she was beautiful.

She stroked the arm that was draped across her chest and held it close, relishing Heather’s strangely gentle hold on her.

To be honest, the idea hadn’t hit her yet. Not properly.

Heather Chandler was holding Veronica Sawyer, in her bed, both of them ass-naked.

She had a _lot_ to write in her diary as soon as she gets home.

Veronica was lazily twirling one of the curly locks on her finger when something struck her as odd. The arm that she was holding began to grow hot - close to breaking a sweat - and when her other hand fell to rest on her back, she felt the exact same. She shifted a little to try and get a view of Heather’s face, but that was buried in the crook of her neck, completely out of sight.

Against one of her bite marks, however, she could feel the slow, steady breaths begin to become more shallow, more sporadic.

“Heather?” she murmured into the dark, though her voice fell on deaf ears. “Heather,” she repeated, slightly louder. “Wake up.”

Just as she said that, the sharp sound of a phone ringing pierced through the silence of the room, making Veronica flinch and Heather jolt awake. Heather untangled herself from Veronica, and in the dark, she could vaguely see her frantically glancing around her room, as if she were trying to make sense of her surroundings. Then after a few seconds, she stilled, and turned towards her nightstand.

“The hell?” she groaned, her voice tired. “Who’s calling at what-the-fuckery hour?”

Veronica let out a light chuckle as Heather lifted the phone off of its stand, only to slam it back on again.

“I’m getting a weird sense of deja vu,” she said as Heather crawled back to the middle of the bed, closer to Veronica, her skin grazing over hers as she lay back down.

“How come?” Heather grunted, lying on her side to face Veronica, who shrugged.

“Not the first time I’ve shared a bed with a Heather, only to be interrupted by a phone ringing.”

She saw a curious glint in her blue eyes.

“Which Heather was this?”

“Duke.”

Heather let out a snigger. “You trying to tell me you and Duke fucked?”

Veronica’s eyes widened at the suggestion. “N-no! It was after out double date, she let me sleep in her bed because I hurt my head.” _She was also cuddled up against me, but that’s too much material for you to work with._

Heather just gave a scoff and rolled onto her back. “As if she’d be so kind.”

Veronica shifted closer to Heather to rest her head on her shoulder. She could feel her tense at her touch, but she soon relaxed and let her head rest on Veronica’s.

“She was kind enough to cover for us earlier,” she murmured, planting a kiss on Heather’s shoulder. “Turns out she has at least one caring bone in her body.”

Heather snorted. “I thought it was Mac who offered to do that.”

“Nope,” she chuckled, nuzzling into the crook of Heather’s neck and snaking her arm over her chest. “She was too drunk to know what was going on.”

“Tch,” was all Heather responded with.

Veronica sighed and wrapped her leg around one of Heather’s. “You okay, by the way?” She reached up and kissed her ear. “It looked like you were having trouble sleeping.”

Heather tensed up again.

“I’m fine,” she grunted. “It was just a bad dream.”

“Ah,” Veronica murmured, tugging Heather a little closer to her, desperate for feel her warmth lace with her own. “Well then, it can’t hurt you.” She breathed in Heather’s floral scent.

“Y-yeah.”

Veronica could hear uncertainty in her voice. She frowned and lifted her head up to try and catch Heather’s gaze in the dark.

“You alright?”

Heather stared back at her blankly.

“I said I was fine,” she muttered. Then she quietly added, “It just felt real, is all.”

Veronica gave a sympathetic smile, then leaned down to hover over Heather’s lips. She could feel her hot breath against her cheek during the time where Heather didn’t respond, which was a good few seconds, before her heart swelled with pleasure as she closed the gap. She smiled into the kiss, bringing a hand up to cup her face while she felt her arms slip around her back to pull her close, until their chests were touching.

And it was then when Veronica could feel the sporadic beating of Heather’s heart. She frowned, and parted.

“Are you sure you’re-”

“ _Yes_ , Veronica,” Heather cut in, irritation audible in her voice. “It was just a dream.”

Veronica pursed her lips, then rested her head on her chest. “What did you dream about?”

It was dark, but not dark enough for Veronica to not see the vexed expression flash on Heather’s face. Veronica found her arm and trailed her hand down it, stopping when she found her hand, which she linked her fingers with. Heather seemed to melt into her touch, and Veronica let her eyelids droop.

“You don’t have to tell me,” she murmured.

“You don’t have to be concerned,” Heather muttered back. Veronica let out a tired huff.

“No, but maybe I want to be.”

“Tch.” She could feel Heather twirling some of her brown tresses around her finger. “Just…”

As Heather’s words trailed off, Veronica opened her eyes and lifted her head to face her.

“Hmm?”

Heather’s eyes were gazing elsewhere. “Just don’t breathe a _word_ of this.” She turned back to her, and she saw a hint of pique in her blue gaze. “Because we’ll be-”

“Six feet under?” Veronica guessed. “Ex-somebodies? I know.” She slid off of Heather and opted to lie next to her instead, on her back, facing the ceiling.

“Much worse, I’d say,” Heather grunted, resting her arms over her stomach. “I doubt we’d get out alive.”

“Perhaps we’d hold onto some flimsy strings,” Veronica mused, glancing at the girl lying next to her. “Some horny jocks will probably _beg_ us to fuck in front of them.”

Heather gave a disgusted groan. “I’d rather choke on drano.” Her mouth twitched. “So you better keep your mouth _shut_.” Her tone became more harsh, more firm. Veronica felt the corners of her mouth droop, and she nodded slowly.

And as she gazed at her longer, she began to think. Her mind replayed the events of the past two weeks, and how _torturous_ they had been. She hadn’t been able to keep her eyes off of Heather or keep her mind distracted for as long as she would have liked. All of that over a _kiss_.

God, school was going to get ten times worse. Never mind daydreaming about Heather kissing and biting her. That was all old news. Now her mind was going to pay awful tricks on her, interrupting her in class at any moment to begin replaying the events of tonight over and over again, cruelly reminding her each time she would see Heather in the hallway or the cafeteria or in the bathroom. Creating urges to pull Heather into a stall or a back alleyway purely to _feel_ her again-

“Heather?” she suddenly blurted out, her voice meek. Heather turned to her.

“What?”

“I…” She chewed on her lip. “What are we?”

She could see alarm flash in Heather’s gaze, though only for a split second. She soon regained her usual poise.

“I don’t know.” She shrugged as if the question wasn’t a priority.

 _Perhaps it isn’t,_ Veronica thought, umbrage beginning to bubble in her chest.

“Friends? Friends with benefits? Girlfriends?” She could see Heather visibly tense up at that last one. “What is it, Heather?” she demanded, becoming more and more desperate for an answer.

Heather was silent for a while. It was probably only for a few seconds, but it dragged out much longer than that.

“...Benefits sounds accurate,” Heather eventually replied. Veronica felt her heart sink a little.

“...Right,” she murmured, flipping onto her side, facing away from Heather.

“Is that a problem?” Heather questioned.

Veronica pondered on what to say. Was it a problem? What had she wanted to her to say?

Girlfriends? Is that what she wanted?

The more she thought about it, the more laughable the idea sounded to her. Veronica Sawyer and Heather Chandler, _dating_? Holding hands on a promenade down the the park, sharing an ice cream, writing each other love poems and sending each other roses?

What a joke. That wasn’t who Heather was.

“No,” she replied dryly.

“Good,” Heather said, shifting closer to her to wrap her arms around Veronica’s waist and pull her up against her, her warm breath beating against the back of her neck. She swallowed at the feeling.

 _All of this is just attraction,_ Veronica told herself. _It shouldn’t be a surprise that I find Heather attractive. Everyone does._

Her hand found Heather’s and locked her fingers with hers. She heard and felt Heather sigh against her spine.

 _And yet…_ her mind thought of everyone who had shown interest in Heather. Many would jump straight to the question and ask for a fuck, others may try and dodge the question in favour of spending some time charming her in hopes of Heather considering staying around a little longer. Regardless of methods, they all wanted the same thing: the opportunity to boast that they had slept with the Queen Bee.

Veronica didn’t have that chance. Both she and Heather knew that if either of them even _hinted_ that any of this had happened, they’d be in deep fucking shit, to say the least.

But that didn’t bother her. Sure, it was _nice_ to have slept with someone who had been at the opposite end of the hierarchy for all these years. A thrill, if you will. But that’s not why she had done it, it was a mere bonus.

Perhaps she’d done it because Heather was attractive and nothing more. After all, it was always Heather initiating anything, she merely accepted because why the hell would she refuse?

Besides, was there anything else she saw in her? She knew she was a mythic bitch. Like you’d catch Veronica dating such a character.

But then she thought of tonight, and specifically tonight. She thought of Heather’s timid movements. She remembered her shaking hands. She remembered the tears rolling down her face, her makeup being completely destroyed in the process.

And she also remembered that her makeup was still destroyed. Heather hadn’t bothered to clean it off, either because she was too lazy or she just wasn’t aware it was messed up. And Veronica hadn’t pointed it out at any point when they were having sex. Partly because she didn’t want any sort of intermission, but also because she simply didn’t care. She didn’t give a shit that Heather had looked imperfect.

So what did she give a shit about? What had she seen in Heather?

A lot, was the answer. She’d seen Heather grow anxious. She’d seen Heather cry. She’d seen Heather laugh. She’d seen all of that in one night. And she’d stayed with her the entire time, because the very thought of abandoning her while she was in any of those states was such an absurd idea to her.

“You’re squeezing my wrists,” Heather suddenly quipped. Veronica gasped silently, then loosened her grip on her wrists.

“Sorry,” she whispered back to her.

Heather just grunted, before moving her arms up so that they were coiled around her chest.

And it was heart-stopping.

Heather was heart-stopping.

And then it occurred to her.

Veronica hadn’t even considered Heather a friend until three weeks ago, when she’d saved her from being drugged by some asshole. It was up until then had she seen Heather in a less secure state than usual. She hadn’t cried, she didn’t shake, she didn’t do anything extreme. She’d simply chosen to leave a party early for the first time ever since she’d met her. Of course, there was the fact that the night had ended with her falling asleep on her, but she’d always just told herself that ‘she was drunk’ and moved on. Needless to say, it was new to her.

Then came the second week. They’d started the night off bickering, and ended it making out on McNamara’s couch. Sure, they’d been drunk, but even alcohol wasn’t _that_ powerful. Something else was there, and Veronica knew it wasn’t just ‘Heather got horny and went for the closest person.’ Heather had opened up to her, and then she ended the night (and started the morning) with her tongue in Veronica’s mouth. She’d found it bizarre, but she by no means regretted it.

Then the next week hadn’t been much, other than Heather kissing her in the darkest corner of the school. Oh, and her threatening to rip JD’s head off when he technically put her in danger. Apparently she could be protective. She’d never seen that before.

And now… this. She’d expected none of this. She didn’t know any of this was possible. And she had stuck around for all of it because she _wanted_ to.

Perhaps Veronica wasn’t sticking around for what she knew about Heather. She knew many things about her before they’d even met, and she had hated all of it.

Perhaps Veronica was staying for what she didn’t know.

 

* * *

 

_“Morning, Dyke.”_

Heather’s eyes shot open at the sound of Veronica’s voice. She reached her hand forward, expecting to find the girl lying in front of her, but she only found an empty space. Confused, she sat up, glancing around, her vision blurry and head dizzy.

“Veronica?” she asked, gazing around her room.

“Did you enjoy tonight?” Her voice sounded again from right next to her. She whipped her head around to see Veronica, fully clothed in her usual blue blazer and grey skirt, standing next to her. She was gazing down at her with a smirk.

“...Why?” she questioned, suddenly getting the urge to cover up her exposed chest with her duvet. She had no idea why. Veronica had seen her naked already.

“Because this will be your last,” Veronica sneered, leaning forward. Heather stared at her.

“Last? The fuck do you mean?” Heather shuffled back a little, feeling a little intimidated by the brunette.

“Oh, right,” Veronica cackled, reaching out to roughly cup her chin. Heather’s hand jolted up to grab her wrist. “You must have not realised.”

“Realised _what_?” Heather spat.

“You think Westerburg is going to touch you after they find out that you’re actually just a lesbian in the closet?” Veronica leered at her. Heather widened her eyes.

“I’m not!” she yelled. “I’m not a lesbian, I’ve liked boys before!” Her voice grew desperate, mainly because she knew she was telling the truth. She _had_ liked boys before. Many times.

“That’s all a thing of the past,” Veronica cooed, a sickening smile appearing on her lips as she tilted her head. “No one will believe you, Heather. Not when we have the bruises to prove it.” Veronica reached to the collar of her shirt and pulled, revealing reds and purples scattered around her neck. Heather stared at her for a moment, before hesitantly looking down her her own body, and letting out a screech of horror.

Her entire body was covered in bruises and bite marks, her pale skin now a blend of purple, green and red. Fuck, there was more bruised skin than not. _Much_ more.

“N-no, they won’t find out!” She whipped her head back up to face Veronica, mustering the most intimidating voice she could while her body was quivering. “You tell anyone about this and I’ll drag you down with me!”

Veronica just gave a pitiful chortle. “Oh, poor little Heather.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You think people are going to bother with me? You honestly think that no one is going to jump on the opportunity to take down the Queen of Westerburg?” She cackled. “Face it, Heather. You’re done. Someone else will move into your place, and you’ll be stuck with me in a coffin.” She grinned maliciously. “Looks like you won’t be needing this!”

Heather watched Veronica take out her red scrunchie from her pocket, then carelessly tossed it over the the other side of the bed. Heather tried to crawl after it, but another hand snatched it away. She came face to face with a red blazer - one similar to hers in colour, but not in style. She brought her eyes up to see who the hand belonged to, and shrank away when she saw Heather Duke, towering over her.

“Never took Heather Chandler for a dyke, but here we are!” she laughed, looping her hair through the scrunchie. “A shame, really. Your reign was alright while it lasted, I guess.” She shrugged, placing a hand on her hip.

“Give me that back!” Heather snarled, trying to lean forward while also keeping the duvet covering her body. “You don’t know that yet!”

“Everyone else knows,” another voice sounded from the bottom of her bed. She turned to see Heather McNamara, her eyes dull and apathetic. “You should never have admitted anything to me, Heather. Did you honestly think I was going to miss up on such an opportunity to take you down?” A smirk appeared on her lips, one she had no idea she was capable of doing.

Heather stared at the blonde in awe. “But you said you’d keep quiet!”

“What do you think this is, Kindergarten?” she scoffed. “Get real, Heather. You’re ruined. No one’s gonna touch a dyke with a six foot pole.”

“Now, now, Heather. I think we’re exaggerating a little.” Veronica and Duke began to stalk to the end of the bed, taking their place next to McNamara. “That whore will be good for one thing.” She sneered at her from across the bed. “She’s still fuckable.”

Heather froze, and opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by something crawling around her body from behind her. Her gaze darted down to see what it was, and she caught her breath when she saw hands beginning to snake around her abdomen, while another pair began to slither over her chest. She felt her stomach churn, and it took all of her power to not vomit.

“Veronica, why the hell are you doing this?” she cried, staring back at the brunette, her eyes blazing. “I brought you up from nothi-”

“Exactly, Heather!” Veronica cut in, laughing. “I don’t know why you’re complaining. You were the one who gave me this power in the first place!”

McNamara and Duke both cackled at that. Heather so desperately wanted to scream at them both to shut up, but a lone hand had crawled over her mouth.

“Westerburg will miss you, Heather.” She smirked. “But they’ll live.”

Heather tried to pull away from the hands, but they were like vines, wrapping around her and reeling her in to whatever fate awaited her. She felt her throat dry up, her body tremble. She wanted to cry out.

“Aw, look!” she could hear McNamara chide. She couldn’t see her though. Her eyes were squeezed shut in an attempt to keep the water forming in her sockets from pouring out. “Heather’s going to cry!”

She heard the three girls laughing. Their laughter echoed against the walls of her bedroom. Their laughter echoed until it sounded like a swarm of hornets buzzing around her. All the while her bruised, burning body was invaded by hands whose source was unknown.

It was when she felt one of those hands go further down that she screamed.

Heather shot up in her bed, cradling her heaving chest. She could feel hot sweat on herself.

Her eyes darted around her room, which was now lit up by the morning sun outside, trickling through the gap in her scarlet curtains and into her room.

Her heart eventually stopped racing when she saw that her room was empty. Her hands sloped down the rest of her body, checking to make sure that no one but herself was touching her.

Nothing. It wasn’t real. Of course it wasn’t real.

She let out a breath she wasn’t aware that she was holding, then slumped back onto the bed, arms splayed out across her mattress.

Then she realised her arms were splayed across the mattress.

She glanced to her side, expecting to see Veronica lying next to her, but was met with nothing. Her heartbeat quickened again, and she scrambled out of bed.

She looked on the floor, searching for signs that she was still here, but she found nothing. Her clothes were gone.

 _Did she_ leave _?_ Heather thought, a twinge of anger beginning to flare up in her chest. She stood up straight, eyes darting around her room while she tried to think of what to do, when the cold air suddenly hit her.

 _Right,_ she thought, looking down at her body. _No clothes._

Giving a tired groan, she walked over to her vanity and grabbed the robe that was slumped over the back of the chair, then threw it on. Usually she wore something else under it, but that was the least of her concerns right now. Besides, her parents weren’t home, so it’s not like it mattered if she was completely covered up or not.

Then her eyes came across her mirror, and she almost gagged when she locked eyes with her reflection.

Fuck, her makeup was _everywhere_.

Staring at herself in disgust, she yanked out one of her drawers and grabbed some makeup wipes, then scraped them across the messy trails of mascara and smudged eyeshadow, rubbing her pale skin vigorously. In doing so, a distressing thought hit her.

 _Did I just have sex looking like this?_ She thought she might vomit at the thought. Either Veronica was just _really_ horny, or her standards were just low. Or both.

Soon enough her makeup was off, her freckles now in full view. She got the urge to cake on some foundation over them, but something interrupted her thoughts.

She gave a whiff of the air, and the smell of cooking hit her, followed by a wave of confusion. Who the fuck was cooking anything?

She grabbed her red scrunchie to pull back her messy, tangled hair, slipped on her fluffy pink slippers and began to make her way downstairs towards her kitchen, and sure enough, the smell got stronger. She knew it couldn’t be her parents. They were away… somewhere. Too busy to cook breakfast.

She eventually sauntered into her kitchen, and she spotted (a fully clothed) Veronica, leaning over the hob. She hadn’t noticed her presence.

Heather cleared her throat, and the brunette whipped her head around.

“Oh, morning, Heather,” she said, giving a half smile. Heather arched a brow, hiding the joy she felt in hearing the girl’s usual tone, and not whatever it was her dream had constructed.

“You’re cooking?” she questioned. Veronica pursed her lips, then nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Uh…” Veronica shrugged, leaning back against the kitchen counter. “Well, to be nice, I guess.” She pouted in thought. “And, uhh… just in case I needed an apology at the ready.”

Heather stared at her.

“An apology?” she echoed, stalking over to her. Veronica curtly nodded.

“You know… for last night.” She rubbed her arm. “I know you weren’t drunk or anything, but I was just worried that you’d suddenly snap and kick me out and-”

Heather gave a cackle, getting close enough to slip her fingers around her arms.

“I don’t see any benefit to that,” she said, gazing up at her. Then she blinked at her. “Ugh, I always forget that you’re taller than me.”

Veronica let out a sweet laugh, her arms resting on Heather’s hips. “I’m starting to think that’s why you didn’t want me wearing heels to school.”

Heather pouted, somewhat embarrassed that she was sorta right. _Sorta._

Veronica snorted again, inching forward a little. Heather ignored her heart skipping beats as she did so.

“By the way,” Heather suddenly quipped. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me that my makeup was a fucking disaster?”

Veronica pursed her lips, then dropped her gaze away from her. Heather patiently waited for her response.

“I, uh…” Veronica murmured. “Was impatient?”

Heather snickered, shifting closer to the taller girl, smirking at how the girl blushed when their bodies brushed.

“Jesus Christ.” Her hands moved down to grip her by the sides. “Were you _that_ desperate to lose your virginity?”

She grinned when the brunette turned red at her words, and goddammit she just couldn’t resist not giving the opportunity to reply. She heard Veronica let out a sigh when she reached up to close the gap between them, and felt herself being tugged closer by the hips. She smirked against Veronica’s lips, relishing the feeling of her clinging onto her, eager to touch her and to be close to her.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t felt it before. It was just that Veronica felt a little different.

Maybe that’s why her hands moved to her thighs to lift her off her feet and shove her onto the kitchen counter. She heard Veronica sharply gasp in the brief moments that they parted, before she smashed her lips back into hers, arms slipping around Heather’s neck to pull her closer. Heather had to lean forward, standing on her tiptoes to deepen the kiss.

Veronica felt so soft against her. It contrasted to the many other lips she had kissed, the many other hands that…

She shivered at that thought, the events of her dream crawling back into mind. She tried to remind herself of the gentle hands currently buried in her hair, that no one else but Veronica was touching her right now.

That Veronica would never even think about calling her a dyke.

She’d hardly noticed herself part from their kiss to rest her head on her shoulder, a sense of reassurance flooding through her when Veronica wrapped her arms around around her waist and rested her chin on her head.

“Wow, Heather Chandler’s tired?” Veronica quipped playfully.

 _Yeah, that must be it._ “My sleep was interrupted by some dipshit calling in the middle of the night. Obviously I’m tired.”

Veronica scoffed. “That’s weak.”

Heather angled her head up to face her. “Oh really?”

“I didn’t get any sleep until _long_ after that,” she said, smirking. “And yet I got up earlier than you.”

Heather rolled her eyes. “I had a rough night, Sawyer. Don’t get cocky on me.”

The amusement in her mocha brown eyes faltered.

“Do you feel okay now?”

Heather stared at her for a moment, and was about to reply with a dismissive "of course, you fucking pillowcase," but a harsh scent interrupted her. She turned her gaze towards the frying pan next to them.

“Veronica, what exactly are you cooking?”

“Uh… omelette?” she replied. “Why?”

“It’s not supposed to smell like that.” She shot her a mischievous grin. “I think your apology is burning.”

Veronica widened her eyes, before pushing past Heather to hop back down onto the tiled floor and slid over to the hob, grabbing the spatula and shoving it under the yellow-brown food sizzling away.

“Shit, this isn’t budging,” Veronica muttered to herself as she continued to try and scrape the omelette off of the Teflon surface.

Heather gave a scoff, before nudging Veronica out of the way and slipping the spatula out of her hand. “I’ll do it,” she said, before proceeding to shove the metal under the omelette.

Except it wouldn’t go under. It really was stuck.

“Clearly you didn’t oil this enough,” Heather grumbled, trying to get under from different angles. Veronica remained silent for a moment, before saying,

“...You’re supposed to oil it?”

Heather dropped the spatula, letting it stay wedged between the pan and the omelette, and slowly turned to the brunette to give her a dumbfounded look.

“Have you ever _made_ omelette before?” she jeered. “Or anything with eggs, for that matter?”

Veronica sheepishly shook her head, earning a cackle out of Heather.

“Then why’d you make omelette, you pillowcase?”

Veronica shrugged. “I dunno, I was just trying to think of something you’d eat for breakfast!”

She gave a huff. “I usually don’t have breakfast, actually.”

Veronica’s eyes widened a little. “You don’t?”

“Not on weekdays.” She turned back to the hob to turn the flames off. “Who has the time?”

“Me.”

Heather picked up the pan and carried it over to one of her her cupboards, opened it, and held the pan over the trash can inside. “Well, sorry that not all of us have time to wake up early enough to make breakfast.” She created a harsh, cringeworthy sound as she grinded the spatula against the pan. She could hear Veronica wince at the sound.

Once she’d gotten (most) of the failed omelette off, she tossed the pan into the sink and turned to Veronica.

“Now, go upstairs. I don’t trust you not to burn my kitchen into smithereens.”

Veronica gave a nod that said “fair enough” before beginning to make her way out of her kitchen and towards the staircase, while Heather went over to one of her cupboards to open it up and grab an unopened packet of pancakes. Just as she set it on the counter, Veronica spoke again.

“You coming?”

Heather glimpsed over her shoulder.

“No. I’m making breakfast, dumbass.”

“Oh!” Veronica took a step towards her. “Do you need any help with-”

“Go upstairs, Veronica,” she told her, ripping the bag open. She heard footsteps scamper away, until she couldn’t hear them anymore.

 

* * *

 

Veronica had turned on the TV that Heather had set out across the bedroom, perfectly set out so that you could lie in bed and watch it without having to twist around in some odd position.

She hadn’t been paying much attention to the show, since her energy still wasn’t restored from the events of last night. She was honestly surprised she wasn’t nodding off into more sleep, but she was glad she wasn’t. She highly doubted Heather would appreciate her overstaying her welcome.

She was snapped out of her dazed state at the sound of the door clicking open, revealing Heather in her red nightgown, holding a silver tray. She got a closer look as she glided across the room, and saw two steaming mugs and a plate of pancakes stacked on top of one another.

“Jesus, you went all out,” Veronica commented as Heather placed the tray on the bed while she tucked herself under the duvet. Heather gave a huff.

“What did you expect?” She leaned over to grab the tray and place it on her lap. “Some cheap cereal?”

Veronica shrugged. “I dunno.”

Heather rolled her eyes, picking up her mug of what Veronica could now see was coffee.

“Oh, did you make me coffee?”

“Yeah.”

“Thank God,” she said, grabbing the mug and taking a swig. “I needed caffeine in my system.”

“You’re not alone on that.”

Veronica gave an amused huff, appreciating that she was able to hold a civilised conversation with the Demon Queen. They sat in her bed, tiredly watching whatever it was playing on the TV, chewing on the pancakes that also just happened to be coated in golden syrup, and Veronica would be damned if they didn’t taste good.

Add it to the list of things she was finding out about Heather; she was a good cook.

They were about half way down the stack when the phone on Heather’s nightstand began to ring. Heather let out an annoyed groan.

“Get that for me,” she said, pointing to the red phone. Veronica nodded and leaned over to the table next to her and grabbed the phone, then handed it to Heather, the curly wire laying across her lap.

“Who is it?” Heather muttered, clearly not arsed about being polite to whoever it could be. It was even more evident the next time she spoke. “Heather, what the hell do you need?”

Veronica couldn’t hear the words being said, but edging a little closer to the phone pressed up against her ear was enough for her to figure out that it was Heather Duke on the other end.

“What?” Chandler’s voice suddenly changed, her tone sounding ever so slightly concerned. Veronica stared at her while Duke babbled to her about something that she was oblivious to, waiting for some sort of reply from Chandler. “Is she still there?” Another, more brief pause. “Well, what the hell happened?”

Veronica felt a little alarmed by the urgency slowly creeping into Heather’s tone.

“For fucks sake… now?” She let out a grunt. “Alright, fine, we’ll be there in an hour or so.” Another short pause. “Me and Veronica, obvio-” She scowled. “Fucking- _Veronica and I_ \- if grammar is that important to you.”

Veronica couldn’t hold back a snicker.

“Yeah, she stayed over. I couldn’t be arsed driving to her house.”

Veronica gave her a sly glance, as to say _not true and you know it._ Heather just glared at her, before her attention was drawn back to the conversation. “Whatever. Just- we’ll get ready now. Yeah, we’ll meet you there.” She then handed the phone back to Veronica and nodded over to the stand, as to tell her to put it back. Veronica did exactly that.

“What did she want?” she asked, turning to her, and was surprised to see her already scrambling out of bed.

“Get dressed, we’re going to Mac’s.”

Veronica glanced at her clothes, then back at Heather, who rolled her eyes.

“Well, do whatever it is you need to do,” she muttered, swerving around her bed over to her vanity. “We need to leave.”

Veronica gave a confused look, crawling out of the bed while also being careful to not knock the mugs off of their tray.

“What’s going on?”

Heather, having sat down in front of her mirror, foundation in hand, didn’t even turn to look at her.

“Mac’s hurt.”


	2. Thorns

“Mac’s hurt.”

Veronica shot off of the bed, her eyes widening.

“What?” She stumbled over the where Heather sat. “Hurt?”

“You heard me,” she muttered, batting at her face with her makeup brush. Veronica just stared at her.

“Hurt as in… how? What’s happened?”

Heather shot her a side glimpse, her eyes appearing slightly irritated. “Dunno. Heather told me she had to stay at the hospital overnight.”

Veronica’s heart sank at the thought of the girl being stuck in a hospital for twelve hours.

“But why was she-”

“Veronica, _I don’t know_ ,” Heather snapped, snatching her hairbrush off the table and shoving it into Veronica’s hand. “Just go get ready, okay?” She tilted her head up while her brush traveled over her face. “The sooner we get to Mac’s, the sooner we’ll be up to date.”

Veronica nodded, going to sit back on Heather’s bed to begin dragging the grey brush through her hair, knots getting caught on the bristles with each swipe. She hissed when her strands would be carried a bit too far, causing a sharp pain to hit her.

 _Jesus,_ she mused. _How did Heather manage to transform my hair into a fucking death knot?_

A bit of an exaggeration on her part. With some effort, her hair eventually smoothed out. Still, Heather messed up her hair big time.

And it was when she didn’t lift the brush off of her scalp in time was she reminded that it wasn’t the only thing she’d done a number on.

“Ow!” Veronica yelped as the bristles scraped over a bite mark just under her ear. She pulled the brush away to gently trace a finger over the bruise, attempting to soothe the pain.

“The fuck did you do?” Heather muttered from her vanity, glancing at Veronica’s reflection.

“More like what did _you_ do,” Veronica shot back, sounding less serious than Heather. “Anyone ever tell you that you have a hard bite?”

Heather didn’t respond for a moment.

“No.” She placed her foundation back on the vanity. “It’s not really something I do.”

Veronica arched a brow, then glanced at her shoulders, both of which were riddled with hickeys.

“...Sure,” she said, unconvinced. She then returned to brushing her tangled hair. “It’s not like I’m gonna end up with _no_ concealer by the end of this week or anything.”

“You think _you_ have it bad?” Heather whipped her head around to shoot her a glare. “I have them all over my fucking collarbone!” She hooked a finger around the red fabric of her robe and pulled, revealing several bruises scattered along her chest.

Veronica scoffed. “At least you don’t have any on your inner thighs.”

Heather held her gaze for a moment longer, her cheeks turning a shade of red that Veronica found quite adorable, before she turned back around to apply her mascara.

“You _asked_ me to go down,” she then retorted. Veronica snorted.

“Yeah, because if you touched me with _those_ ,” she nodded to the talons that were her acrylic nails. “Me being on the pill would be made redundant.”

She heard Heather stifle a laugh. The corner of Veronica’s mouth picked up as a result.

Eventually she managed to smooth out the rest of her hair, and she was able to return the brush to Heather’s vanity. She left to go and quickly wash her face, and due to habit, went to reach for a toothbrush, only to realise she didn’t have one. She groaned and returned to Heather’s room, and saw she had finished applying her makeup.

“Sucks we don’t have time to go fetch my toothbrush,” Veronica said, walking over to her pair of shoes that had been lazily plopped next to Heather’s bed.

“I might have gum somewhere,” Heather said, slipping her robe off. Veronica yelped in surprise.

“Uh, do you want me to leave or-?”

The girl cackled and turned to face her, the robe pooling around her arms, loosely revealing her exposed body. Veronica gulped, trying to keep her eyes from wandering.

“Veronica, we slept in my bed ass-naked last night.” She gave a mischievous grin when she shrugged the clothing off and carelessly tossed it over the back of her chair. “Surely you’re not so prudish to let _this_ bother you?” There was a hint of teasing in her voice. Teasing that began to make Veronica’s heartbeat start up again.

“I, uh… guess you’re right?” she stammered, her eyes following the girl stalk over to her drawers, all the while her blue gaze didn’t leave Veronica for a second.

“Mhmm,” Heather hummed, finally turning away from the brunette to begin rummaging through her drawer. Veronica had to physically drag her head away from her to keep herself from staring at her like a fucking creep.

“Do you mind if I use some mascara?” she asked, standing up from the bed to begin sauntering over to the vanity, all the while trying to avert her gaze from her ‘friend’ who she was pretty sure was still fully naked, from what she could tell from her peripheral vision.

“Use the older one,” Heather told her. Veronica sat down at the vanity and scanned over the numerous options for mascara, and went for the most stained tube she could find. Just to be sure, she turned towards the drawers, expecting to see Heather still lingering around there.

“Is this it-” She paused when she noticed that Heather was no longer where she had been before. She opened her mouth to call for her, but was cut off by someone touching her shoulder.

“Gah!” she yelped when she turned around to see Heather, now wearing a mahogany-red bra and underwear. Her reaction seemed hilarious to Heather, since she let out a chortle. Veronica pouted. “Jesus, you fucking scared me.” She turned back to the mirror, and saw herself sitting in the chair in front of Heather, whose hands were on both sides of the back of the seat. Veronica felt rather trapped in her current position, but she couldn’t complain. She didn’t need to see Heather to feel her warmth drifting around her, or feel her breath lightly skim the top of her head.

“Did you need something?” Veronica questioned, trying to drag her focus back to her bare eyelashes to begin coating them in the black liquid. She caught her breath when she felt arms wrap around her neck and a chin rest on her head. She looked at their reflections, and swallowed when she saw Heather’s half-lidded blue gaze gazing at her through the mirror.

“No,” she said. “Just came to comment on how you weren’t staring at me as per usual.”

Veronica gave her an odd look, or as best as she could while beginning to brush the wand over her lashes. “I thought you wanted me to stop doing that,” she muttered, leaning forward slightly, only to be pulled back by the arms around her, her body hitting the back of the chair. She whipped her head up to face Heather directly, and was met with her lips on hers as a result.

Whatever it was she had just been doing suddenly became irrelevant, and she dropped the wand on the desk to twist around and cup Heather’s cheeks, their lips caressing each other. Veronica could faintly taste the bitterness of coffee and the sweetness of the sugar that had been sprinkled along the pancakes they had just eaten. She smiled when she felt the hands around her neck slide further down to hold her sides. Then she gasped she felt those hands try to tug her dress down.

“You’re really trying to take my clothes off?” she muttered against her lips.

“What did you think I was doing?” Heather shot back, tightening her grip on the navy fabric. Veronica chuckled at her eagerness.

“Flattering, but I still need to get ready.” She eyed her half-naked body. “And so do you.” She turned away from her, somewhat reluctantly, in order to return the wand to her lashes. In the mirror, she could see Heather give a frustrated pout.

“What’s the hurry?”

Veronica shot her a glare. “Um… Heather is the hurry. She’s hurt, remember?”

Heather held her gaze for a moment, before sighing and sauntering over to her wardrobe. Veronica just arched a brow at her.

“You don’t seem all that concerned,” she said, returning to her lashes once again. Heather scoffed.

“I’m concerned, but not _worried_ ,” she retorted, the clattering of the hangers sounding from the wardrobe. “If Heather was badly hurt then Heather would’ve called me in the middle of the night to tell me, not wait until morning.”

While saying that, Veronica was able to connect the dots.

“Heather, we _did_ get a call in the middle of the night.” She glimpsed at her. “That call might’ve been Heather.”

Heather suddenly paused.

“Oh,” is all she said, before snatching some casual clothes from her wardrobe. Veronica let out a huff as the girl began to pick up her pace in unhooking the clothes from their hangers.

“Did Heather not tell you anything else?” she asked, quickly finishing up the last of her lashes.

“No, all she said was _just meet us at Mac’s, we’ll explain everything there_!” Her voice grew more high pitched to attempt to match Duke’s. “Which is pretty fucking useless.”

While Heather slipped on a red, shoulderless crop top, Veronica’s eyes began to wander around her surroundings. She’d been in Heather’s room a couple of times before, but it was always brief. Staying in the abnormally large room had been a completely new experience for her.

Her room was mostly a beige colour, accented with a variety of shades of red. Crimson lampshade, scarlet curtains, pink duvet and mahogany vanity, to name a few. When looking at her reflection, Veronica felt like she stood out against the colours of the room, her desaturated blue-grey shirt and dark navy dress contrasting to the bright reds scattered around the room.

Her eyes trailed away from the mirror and began to scan the area of the vanity, her gaze zig-zagging up the miniature shelves structured around the mirror. Her brown eyes landed on some pigeon blue frames, all of which held a photo. She grabbed the one closest to her to get a closer look.

The photo was of two children - both maybe the age of six or seven. One girl was a strawberry blonde in a frilly pink dress, holding another girl’s hand. The other girl was a brunette, her hair long and straight, some of it swooping over her eye. She was shorter than the first girl and wore a white t-shirt and a black dress, with yellow socks.

“Aww, Heather,” she cooed, eyes returning to the strawberry blonde in the frame. “Is this you?”

She glimpsed at Heather, who had just finished adjusting the elastic band of her grey skirt, and snapped her head up. She spotted the frame in her hand and widened her eyes.

“The hell?” She marched over to her. “Don’t go snooping through my things!” she scolded, snatching the frame from her hand. Veronica offered an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, I was just curious.” She stood up to peak over at the photo which Heather now held, her chin landing on her shoulder. Heather’s eyes stayed glued to the photo.

“Who’s the other girl?” Veronica asked, pointing at the brunette. Heather shot her a dumbfounded look.

“That’s Mac, dumbass.”

Veronica’s eyes widened, and she turned back to the photo to get another look. She didn’t see it at first, up until she scanned the face a little closer. She was able to recognize the round face and shimmering brown eyes of Heather McNamara, but only with the advantage of being told that it was indeed the same person.

“Shit, really? She’s changed so much.”

Heather let out a huff. “Didn’t you know she wasn’t naturally blonde?”

“No, I knew that. Her roots are brown.” She shifted her head on Heather’s shoulder to lock her gaze with hers. “It’s just odd seeing her without blonde hair.”

“Didn’t you go to the same Kindergarten?” Heather questioned, returning the photo to its respective place on the vanity. “And elementary, for that matter?”

“That was _years_ ago!” Veronica said, lifting her head off of Heather’s shoulder. “And I never spoke to her anyway.” She grinned at Heather. “Never spoke to you, either.”

“Tch,” Heather pursed her lips, her eyes trailing over to the other photos. “She was really quiet back then. I’m not surprised you didn’t speak to her.”

She reached for another photo, another one featuring her and McNamara. This one had an eight year old Chandler in a devil costume and an eight year old McNamara in a werewolf costume.

“That’s adorable!” Veronica squealed. Heather rolled her eyes. She giggled at her embarrassed pout, before looking at the photo again. “Say, how long have you been friends, anyway?”

Heather blinked at the photo. “Since first grade.” She placed the photo back on the shelf. Veronica just stared at it, quite impressed.

“Damn.” Her eyes flickered to the photo next to the two that had been picked up. From where she stood, she could see what looked like an eleven year old Chandler with who she could more easily recognize as Duke. “What about Duke?” she asked. “She was in our elementary school, right?”

Heather stared at the photo for a moment.

“If she was, I don’t remember her.” She turned back to Veronica. “I met her in middle school.”

For a moment, Veronica was confused to why that would be the case. Then she remembered.

“Oh, I remember now. She moved away for pretty much all of elementary. It’s Kindergarten that I’m thinking of.”

“That’s why, then. I didn’t go to your Kindergarten.”

Veronica gave a half-smile, then turned back to the photos, getting another look at McNamara. In doing so, her mind suddenly returned to the present, and acted as a harsh reminder to why they were getting ready in the first place. She frowned, remembering that the blonde was still _injured_ and Veronica had no idea why or how. Thinking about it for a second made a heart-sinking thought occur to her.

“Heather?” she lifted her gaze to meet the strawberry blonde.

“What?”

“You don’t suppose…” Her voice grew more concerned. “What if something happened at the Remington party? After we left.”

Heather stared back at her, her eyes suddenly becoming clouded with what she assumed was worry.

“Well, hurry up and get ready,” she suddenly snapped, grabbing her hairbrush to begin dragging it through her hair. Veronica almost cringed when she heard the scraping of the bristles against her locks; her hair had to be _much_ more tangled than hers had been, since not only was it longer, but Veronica had tangled her hands in it for the majority of the events from last night _a lot_ more than Heather had with hers. She was surprised to see her unphased, however. “The sooner we’re out, the sooner we’ll be at Mac’s.”

“Heather, I’m already ready.” She pointed to her newly applied mascara. “Unlike you, I’m fine with leaving the house without three layers of foundation.”

Heather snapped her gaze up at her, slightly irritated.

“You’re gonna need a _lot_ more than that, Veronica.” Her eyes dropped to her neck, and that was enough for her to realise what she was referring to. She sat back down on the chair to face the mirror, purely to examine her neck properly for the first time.

Shit, she had a _lot_ of work to do.

“Ugh… where’s your concealer?” she groaned, running a finger from just under her ear all the way down to the end of her shoulder, wincing each time she came into contact with a hickey.

Heather dropped her hairbrush on the vanity and grabbed some liquid concealer that had been hidden in plain sight on the edge of the table, then held it up in front of Veronica.

“This is going to take forever,” Veronica muttered, lifting up one of the straps of her dress to find yet another bite mark hidden beneath. She flinched when she let go of the strap, not anticipating that it would slap an already stinging bruise.

“You’re telling me,” Heather jeered, pushing her hair back to reveal her own neck that was riddled in Veronica’s work. It had been up until then that Veronica had seen just how much she had covered, and she found it hard to hide the fact that she was damn well pleased with the result. She stifled a giggle, which caught Heather’s attention.

“It’s not funny. It fucking _hurts_ , if anything!”

“Speak for yourself,” she shot back playfully. Heather rolled her eyes, before unscrewing the top of the concealer.

“Look, to save precious time, you do me, and I’ll do you.”

Veronica stared at her for a second.

“ _Concealer,_ Veronica,” Heather harshly clarified. Veronica suddenly nodded in understanding, and stood up to go and sit on the bed. Heather grabbed two makeup sponges before coming to sit next to her.

“Now, I swear to God,” she muttered, squirting some concealer onto her fingers and dabbing the liquid on different areas of her skin, before handing the sponge over to Veronica. “If this hurts- _ow!_ ” she yelped as Veronica pressed the sponge down on a bruise. “Jesus, not so hard!”

 _That’s not what you said last night,_ Veronica thought about saying, but stopped herself. Instead, she muttered an apology as Heather began to dab concealer on her neck, before she suddenly paused.

“That’s… too noticeable,” she eventually said. She then looked down to her hand and held it next to Veronica’s, and groaned. “This isn’t going to work on you.”

“Why not?”

“You’re darker than me,” Heather muttered. Veronica arched a brow.

“What about last time?”

“That wasn’t my concealer. It was Duke’s.”

Veronica stared at her.

“Why did you-”

“I didn’t bring my own, so I had to improvise!” She shrugged. “She never noticed, so it’s all fine.” She then felt her wipe her fingers across her neck. “But we’re kind of fucked here.” She stared at the liquid on her finger. Veronica stared at her, and could see a glint of anxiety in her blue gaze, just for a second. Then it evaporated into nothing, and her poise returned.

“I should have some of Duke’s foundation in my car,” she said, gesturing at Veronica to begin painting over the remains of last night. She obliged, but not without shooting her a weird look.

“Why the hell do you have Duke’s foundation?”

Heather seemed to freeze under her touch for a second. Veronica thought it might have been because she pressed too hard on a bruise, but what she said next proved that that wasn’t the case.

“Just in case,” she mumbled, almost inaudibly. Veronica still heard it loud and clear, however, and she stared at her.

“ _Just in case?_ ” she echoed, dumbfounded. “What, were you _planning_ on-”

“Hey, less talking and more working!” Heather cut her off harshly. “Do you want to get to Mac’s house or not?”

Veronica rolled her eyes, but she drew all her focus back to covering up the bite marks coating Heather’s skin.

 

* * *

 

Heather skidded into an empty parking space on the side of the road, just outside of McNamara’s house. The sudden stop threw Veronica forward in her seat.

“God, be more graceful next time?” Veronica muttered, leaning back into her seat.

“Tch,” is all Chandler replied with. The engine had stopped, though her hands were still on the wheel. As Heather was finishing up covering up the many bite marks on her neck, she glimpsed at the girl next to her, and saw that she was facing away from her, gazing out the window. Clouds would appear every now and then with each light exhale.

“You okay?” Veronica asked, tilted her head forward to try and catch her gaze.

Heather didn’t respond at first, almost as if she didn’t hear her. Then her voice came out as a murmur.

“It just hit me.”

Veronica stared at her, confused.

“What did?”

Heather dropped her gaze to her lap.

“Us.”

Veronica blinked. “What about us?”

“That’s a stupid fucking question.” She whipped her gaze to meet her, her eyes growing dark. “Just… everything. Everything that happened last night.” The corners of her eyes curled up as her eyes drifted to her hands, which finally slipped off of the wheel. “I don’t know. It just hit me all of a sudden.”

Veronica couldn’t do anything but stare at her. When she couldn’t catch her eye, her gaze fell to her body, and slowly made its way down to her legs, and it was then when she dragged her gaze away, back outside.

And it was when she saw McNamara’s house out the foggy window did reality grab her by the collar and slap her in the face.

It was almost as if for the past twelve hours or so, she and Heather had been in a bubble. A much needed bubble, one floating above all the shit they had to wade through every day. Yesterday Heather had needed to escape it, just for a while.

Her room had been that bubble. The shiny, soapy surface that formed the weakest shield you could imagine against reality. Every bubble has to pop, and it was as if seeing McNamara’s house, being reminded that McNamara and Duke were still around and very, very real, had done just that.

Suddenly a pit began to weigh in Veronica’s chest. It was one thing to cover up a drunken make out session. It was another thing entirely to cover up a very sober and real night of sex with the Demon Queen of Westerburg.

And by how dazed Heather looked while staring at her hands, it seemed she was having very similar thoughts to her in that moment.

“You’re not worried that I’m going to tell anyone, are you?” Veronica eventually said, breaking the heavy silence between them. “Because I would never-”

“Of course I’m not!” Heather snapped, locking eyes with her again. Veronica flinched when she saw the return of a dangerous flame in her irises - one that she had been freed from for a night and a morning. “It’s just fucking bizarre. You and me. _You_ and _me_.” Creases formed in her nose as she ran her hand down her neck, which while clean, Veronica knew what was underneath the concealer she had caked on.

Veronica just twiddled with her thumbs as Heather’s lips stayed parted awkwardly, waiting for more words to come out and yet never finding them.

She almost didn’t need to say anything more, however, since Veronica could take an educated guess and say that it was much more for Heather to take in than it was for her. Of course it would be. Heather Chandler may sleep around, but she had limits.

And she and Veronica both knew that said limit should have been _her_. Never mind the fact that Veronica was a female. Veronica was beneath Heather, even after being accepted into the clique. She had been hand-crafted by Heather to be able to _be_ in that clique in the first place. Showing any sort of intimacy with her would mean for Heather to stoop to whatever level she was on in order to reach her. And whatever level that was, it was too low for Heather, and yet she did it anyway.

Veronica wondered if she would ever fully understand the reasons for doing so.

“You know what, just…” Heather shook her head. “Never mind. Forget it.”

Veronica stared at her.

“It’s gonna be pretty difficult to forget about it, Heather.”

“No, not _that_ ,” she hissed. “I meant this conversation. Forget about it, it doesn’t matter.”

Veronica thought about disobeying and continuing on, feeling an urge to ask Heather for answers for the questions swarming in her head, but she dropped it. She knew Heather would never answer them.

Instead, she silently nodded.

“Are you going to put that back?” Heather then asked, eyeing the foundation in Veronica’s hand.

“I’m returning it to Duke,” she replied calmly, suddenly reminding her to double check in the car mirror to see if she missed out any bruises.

“Excuse me?” Heather glared at her, reaching out to grab the foundation. Veronica snatched it away from her, holding it at the furthest end of the car from her.

“You stole it!”

“I doubt she noticed.”

Veronica rolled her eyes before shoving it in the pocket of her jacket. She looked out her window and gazed back at the gigantic building that was McNamara’s house, and she began to feel a pit grow in her stomach, as if moving away from one worry and made room for the other.

“I hope she’s okay,” she mused out loud, not noticing the faint rustling from the seat next to her.

“You said you needed gum, right?” Veronica turned back around to face Heather, who immediately tossed a half-full pack of gum at her. It landed on her nose and fell onto her lap.

“Ugh, thanks,” Veronica muttered, grabbing the pack and slipping a piece out.

“You can return that to Duke as well, if you’re that desperate to be a good samaritan,” Chandler berated, unbuckling her seat belt. Veronica blinked at her.

“Jesus, do you have her fucking house keys in here too?”

Chandler scoffed at her, grabbing the door handle. “Do you honestly think I stole a pack of gum from her? She left it in my car the other day.” She swung open the car door and stepped out. Veronica threw the gum in her mouth and opened the passenger’s side door.

Just as Veronica straightened herself up, a sudden tug on her hair made her flinch. Her eyes darted around to see Heather with her hands around her locks, leaning over slightly towards her neck. A flicker of warmth could be felt on Veronica’s cheeks when she felt the faintest warmth of her breath cut through the cold November air.

“What are you-”

“Just making sure it’s convincing enough,” Heather muttered, before dropping her hair and swinging around to begin making her way up to the front door of McNamara’s house. Veronica flattened the slightly ruffled hair and followed close behind.

The walk down the pathway was silent, as if with each step the tension got slightly thicker. Veronica had no idea why she had begun to feel nervous - she knew McNamara wasn’t horribly injured, otherwise she wouldn’t have been let out the hospital after a few hours. And yet, maybe it was the fact that the sweet blonde had to go to the hospital in the first place that made Veronica quicken her pace, overtaking Chandler as a result.

It was Veronica who reached the door first, and as a result, rang the doorbell. Heather stalked up the stairs and stopped right next to her, folding her arms over her chest.

“Imagine if it turned out that after all this she had a chipped tooth,” Heather tittered. Veronica stared at her.

“Heather, she might be really hurt!”

Heather opened her mouth to give a sharp retort, but was interrupted by the door clicking open. Both of their heads turned in unison to see the door open ever so slowly, long, drawn out creaking sounding from the latches.

“Heather?” Veronica asked, taking a step towards the door, which opened a little more at the sound of her voice.

“...Hey, Veronica,” a sheepish voice could be heard from the other side of the door.

“Are you going to open this door or not?” Chandler chided, which earned her a glare from Veronica.

“Sorry, Heather,” McNamara murmured, before finally swinging the door open. The first thing Veronica noticed was that she was still in the same clothes as the previous night, minus the jacket and heels. She also held her dark ginger cat close to her chest, her face half-buried behind it.

“Heather, what happened?” Veronica jumped right into the question, stepping towards her. “Heather said you were-”

Her words got lost somewhere on the way out when McNamara gingerly tilted her head up, above the cat in her arm. Her face was now in full view, which in turn meant that both Veronica and Heather could clearly see the white bandage plastered over the bridge of her nose.

“Shit, what the hell did you do?” Chandler griped, shutting the door behind her. McNamara averted her gaze from her, her eyes glistening with shame.

“...Broke my nose?” she said in the quietest voice she could muster without it turning into a whisper.

“Yeah, I _know_ ,” Chandler shot back. “I meant, how the fuck did that happen?”

Veronica cringed at the harsh tone the red-haired girl was using. “Heather…” she scolded quietly.

“It’s… a long story,” McNamara said, her eyes still stuck to the shiny floor of the hallway, and arms curled around her cat, who purred and rubbed his head against her cheek, almost as if he knew she wasn’t feeling good. The feline’s gesture managed to help a corner of the blonde’s mouth quirk up, though, which was a nicer sight to see for Veronica.

“Do tell,” Chandler said, folding her arms. McNamara gave a sheepish nod, before leading them off to her living room.

And suddenly, re-tracing these steps towards the room reminded Veronica of that night a mere two weeks ago, when this whole… _thing_ with Chandler had started. Her heart beat picked up slightly, and she couldn’t tell whether that was due to adrenaline triggered by the memory of Heather kissing her for the first time, or because of how much she _adored_ that memory.

It seemed that Chandler may be having similar thoughts to her, apparently, from what she could tell from the way she glared at the door to the living room and inhaled deeply, her shoulders rising and falling in an ungraceful, discomforted motion.

Heather McNamara plopped onto the middle of the couch, still holding onto her cat like a lifeline. Veronica shot her a pitiful look before sitting down next to her, followed by Chandler sitting on the other side of McNamara.

“Okay, so… before I get into it.” Her eyes picked up a little, but kept them facing forward. “Please don’t get mad.”

“Why would we get mad?” Veronica asked, offering a friendly hand on her shoulder. The girl seemed to relax a little, since she finally locked eyes with Veronica and gave a half-hearted smile.

“You wouldn’t, but…” She frowned again, turning to Chandler. “I don’t know, maybe you might?” She dragged her gaze away from her again, facing down. “Heather told me it would be silly if you did, but-”

“Heather, just tell us what happened,” Chandler told her. McNamara hesitated, before giving a sigh and nodding.

“Well, remember when you both disappeared?”

 

* * *

 

Heather could feel herself begin to sway a little - more than usual, anyway. Looking at the abnormally large glass in her hand and seeing it was almost empty, she realised the alcohol must be catching up on her.

And it kinda sucked that she was the only one descending into a drunken state.

She turned to the brunette next to her, who was staring off into the distance. Heather just assumed she was caught up in a daydream.

“Say, ‘Ronica,” perhaps she should blame missing the first syllable of her name on the beer, but she couldn’t help but think that the nickname suited her. “Wanna do shots with me? I feel alone in my drunken state.” She gazed at her hopefully, before taking one last sip of the beer and slamming it onto the wooden counter in front of her.

She waited for Veronica’s reply, wholeheartedly expecting her to jump at the opportunity to get pissed.

Instead, she hardly acknowledged her question, and hopped down from her stool.

“I-” She kept her eyes glued to the crowd surrounding them. “I’ll be back,” she eventually said, before marching off. McNamara and Duke stared after her in shared confusion, and eventually looked at each other when she was out of sight.

“Where’s she going?” McNamara asked. Duke shrugged.

“I mean, maybe she just went for a piss or something.” She turned back to the sea of college students in the room. “Though I have a hunch that that’s not it.”

“What makes you say that?”

Duke turned around to look at her again. “Because she was asking about Heather. Dunno why, though. She always ditches us to fuck David at these parties.”

McNamara tilted her head. “She’s never been to these parties, though. There’s no way of her knowing that.”

Duke gave a huff. “Still, Heather’s _always_ going off to bang some guy. Doesn’t matter where.” She casually sipped her water. “Veronica should know that by now.”

“I suppose,” McNamara said, going to take another sip of her beer, only to be met with a singular leftover drop. “Aw, out of beer.”

“ _Good,_ ” Duke said. “Beer’s disgusting.”

“It isn’t!” she argued, a grin forming on her lips. “It’s pretty strong at first, but you get used to it.”

“You’re one to speak,” she shot back, eyeing her. “Didn’t you choke on the stuff last week?”

“Well _yeah_ , but that’s because I’m not good at chugging things!” She gave a giggle. “Heather’s way better at that kind of stuff.”

“I mean, considering the amount of dicks she’s sucked, I’m not surprised she finds swallowing so easy.”

McNamara gave an amused snort, before letting out a wave of laughter, which seemed to be contagious since Duke began to laugh along with her.

“That explains a lot, actually,” McNamara snickered. “I’m a spitter.”

Duke suddenly scrunched up her nose and gave her an odd look. “I didn’t need to know.” She then pursed her lips, her green irises darting from left to right. “Though, I’d make a ‘spitters are quitters’ joke, but I’d be a hypocrite.”

McNamara gave an excited gasp. “Holy shit, I thought I was alone!” She grabbed Heather’s shoulder’s and swayed forward a little. “I don’t know how people do it!”

Duke fluttered her lashes at her, before leaning a little closer so that her lowered voice could still be heard.

“It’s gross, right?”

“ _I know!_ ”

She was then met with a hand over her mouth.

“Don’t announce it to everyone, Heather!” she scolded her. Though drunk, McNamara nodded, and leaned back onto her stool.

“Sorry.”

“Whatever. You’re drunk, so...” She shrugged. McNamara stifled a giggle.

“Yeah.” Then she pouted. “Alone and drunk, though.” She decided to turn her attention back to the crowd. “I need Veronica back, I’m so _alone_.”

Duke gaped at her. “Guess I don’t exist then?”

McNamara snapped her gaze back to the girl and shook her head frantically. “No, that’s not what I-!”

She was cut off by Duke giving a snort of laughter.

“I’m messing with you.” She rolled her eyes. “You gotta stop taking things literally, M.”

Though her head was buzzed, she was able to recognize the words that had been thrown at her many times before, and she frowned.

“Sorry.”

The corners of Duke’s mouth then dropped. “Uh, it’s fine?"

The hint of confusion that McNamara could find in her voice only made her feel a bit more silly than she was already. An awkward silence fell on the two of them for a moment.

“You gonna do shots, then?” Duke suddenly said, snapping McNamara out of her murky thoughts. The blonde pouted and glanced over to the table in the middle, which held the numerous options of alcohol and shot glasses.

“I’ll wait ‘til Veronica gets back first,” McNamara replied, rocking her empty beer glass back and forth. “Speaking of which, where is she?” She glanced over her shoulder to scan the room, seeing if she could spot the tall brunette anywhere. Still nothing.

“Maybe she’s just having a _long_ piss,” Duke suggested, her tone growing more humorous. McNamara snickered, and was about to add something to the joke, before a thought occurred to her.

“What if she really didn’t, though?” she asked. “Do you really think she went after Heather?”

Duke pursed her lips, then shrugged. “Guess we’ll find out when she gets back.” A corner of her mouth then quirked up. “Though, if she actually did, I imagine it wouldn’t end well.”

McNamara stared at the grin forming on her mouth. “Why is that funny?”

“Just seeing Heather yell at Veronica for being a dumbass would be the highlight of my night.”

While Heather nodded, her mind just couldn’t agree. Veronica and Heather bickering was never something she could enjoy - it was when they were throwing snarky, yet well-meaning comments at each other did she really feel any sort of joy being around them. Watching the two of them snapping at each other’s throats just wasn’t a pleasant experience. So it was unfortunate that that’s how they usually behaved around each other. Golden moments lived up to their name, in that they were rare, beautiful, and probably worthless.

 _Then again,_ her mind began to wander to last week, remembering events that she had tried her very best to bury in her subconscious part of mind. _I have no idea what’s happening between those two._ Heather was the only one who knew that Heather and Veronica had kissed two weeks ago, and she hadn’t brought it up since last week. Mainly because she knew Heather would be fucking _furious_ at her if she breathed a word, but also because, unlike pretty much anyone else in the school, she had nothing to gain.

Okay, she _did_ have something to gain, and while she admitted that the idea of having the same amount of power as Chandler over Westerburg sounded nice, it just wasn’t worth destroying a friendship that she has been holding on for years. Since first grade, to be exact. It just wasn’t worth it for a temporary reign of power, especially when she already _had_ power to begin with. Why did she need any more?

There was another reason too, but she hated to think about that. _If I don’t admit it, it’s not worth thinking about,_ she told herself.

A few moments had passed when movement in her peripheral vision caught her eye. She cocked her head up to see Veronica and Heather, and was about to say hello, but was beaten to it by Duke.

“ _There_ you are!” she exclaimed, twisting around on her stool to face them both. “I was starting to think some dude had dragged you both in a dorm for a threesome.”

McNamara would have laughed, if it wasn’t for the seriousness she could see on Veronica’s face. Her gaze moved down, and she was surprised to see that Veronica was holding Heather’s hand, and quite tightly at that. She blinked at the sight - Chandler didn’t let people touch her often, and when she did, it was usually her. Not Duke, and especially not Veronica. Just her.

“Guys…” Veronica murmured. “Heather and I are ditching.”

“Ditching?” Duke looked shocked at the idea. McNamara just grew more concerned. It was out of the ordinary for Heather to leave a _Remington_ party.

“How come?” she asked.

Her eyes then trailed up and caught Heather’s gaze, and she frowned when she saw a rare, yet familiar glint in her eyes.

 _She’s scared,_ Heather realised. _Why is she scared? What the hell scared her?_ She swallowed. _She’s Heather Chandler! She doesn’t get scared!_

Apart from last week, but that’s beside the point. That was the exception.

She reminded herself to look away when Heather dragged her gaze from her, looking elsewhere.

And it was then when she realised that she had missed half of the conversation. She jumped right back in, trying to figure out what she had missed.

She looked back to Veronica, who was leaning close to Duke and discussing something quietly. McNamara couldn’t hear their low voices over the music playing and loud teenagers and college students, and could only see a grateful smile appear on Veronica’s lips.

“Thanks so much,” she then said loud enough for them both to hear, glancing at McNamara and then back at Duke. McNamara just gave a reassuring smile, but had no idea what she was being thanked for. Before she could ask, however, Veronica dragged Heather away by the hand and disappeared into the crowd, leaving her with Duke. She turned to her.

“What’s happening?”

“Like she just said,” Duke replied. “Ditching.”

“I know, but _why_?” McNamara leaned forward a little. “I didn’t hear.”

Duke’s mouth twitched. “I don’t know exactly, but…” Her eyes began to wander around the crowd and her words trailed off. “I got an idea.”

Heather tilted her head, concern beginning to grow in the pit of her stomach in hearing the seriousness seeping into her voice.

“What is it? What’s your idea?”

Duke stared at her with a deadpan expression.

“I think Veronica just saved Heather’s ass.” She pursed her lips. “Again.”

“What do you…” Her voice trailed off when her slow brain was able to eventually pick up on what she was referring to. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

McNamara stared at nothing for a second, her brain beginning to buzz. She’d been there the last time Veronica had ‘saved Heather’s ass’ and, while she admired the hell out of Veronica’s badass reaction, she’d been terrified of how _close_ Heather had been to being drugged.

She could feel that same anxiety returning at the thought of those events replaying yet again, whether or not they were identical.

“Is Heather okay?” she suddenly blurted out. Duke gave a shrug.

“I don’t know. She didn’t say anything.”

McNamara swallowed. She’d seen how vulnerable the girl had looked in the brief moment she’d caught her eye. She knew how rare it was to see such a sight, in all the years she’d known her.

Someone had done that. Someone had caused Heather to be scared.

And she knew just who that person had to be.

“Did…” She bit her lip. “Did David do that?”

“Do what?”

“Try and… you know…” Her nose scrunched up into a look of fear and disgust. Duke caught on what word she was hinting at.

“Maybe.” Duke looked down at the hands, which were now subtly fiddling with each other. “Like, I don’t know for _sure_ , but let’s be real here.” She leaned a little closer to her and scowled at the crowd. “That’s what half of these frat boys are here for. They’ve replaced their brains with their dicks.”

Her tone sounded somewhat sarcastic, but with how she was glaring at the college kids fumbling around the room, McNamara could pick up that she wasn’t joking. Not really.

“So it’s not like they’re gonna understand the concept of ‘no’ meaning ‘no.’ To be honest, I’m pretty sure they feel like that’s the only point of us being here.” Her green eyes suddenly flashed up to her again. “Are you going to have anything else to drink?”

McNamara blinked, caught off guard by the sudden topic change, but responded by shaking her head.

“No point, really.” She turned towards her empty glass. “You’re staying sober, and Veronica’s gone…” She sighed, pushing the glass away. “Sucks, really.”

“What does?”

“I dunno… I guess I just…” She caught her chin with a hand leaning against the wooden counter. “I wanted a night out. A _good_ one.” Her brows knitted as she gazed at Heather. “I mean, if you think about it, we haven’t had one in almost a month.”

Duke stared at her for a moment. “You’re not wrong,” she muttered, taking a sip of her water. “Our Friday nights have been real shit lately.”

A half smile appeared on McNamara’s lips. “Maybe we’ll get one next week?”

“If we’re lucky,” Duke chuckled. She then glimpsed at her water. “You gonna sober up, then? I don’t think I can be arsed with keeping an eye on you.” She pushed the glass over to her. McNamara gave a thankful smile, then took a gulp.

“Maybe someday it can be Veronica and Heather keeping an eye on us instead,” McNamara said, humour returning to her voice.

“We’ve fucking earned it,” Duke laughed. “When is it their turn?”

“Well, it was supposed to be Heather’s turn tonight, but…” The corners of her mouth dropped again. “I hope she’s okay.”

She heard Duke scoff.

“What are you on about? She’ll be fine!” Her smile faltered a little. “I think,” she added, her voice growing quiet.

“But don’t you think it’s odd?” Heather suddenly said, shifting to the edge of her seat. “I know we’ve left the last two parties early, but this isn’t a normal party! It’s a Remington party!” Her foot began to frantically bounce. “Something must have happened, right?”

Duke held her gaze for a moment, and her lips parted to reply, but was interrupted by a voice.

A voice that McNamara _really_ didn’t want to hear right now.

“Hey, ladies.”

They both snapped their heads around to see David making his way over to them. From the corner of her eye, she could see Duke’s face begin to curl up in disgust at the sight. McNamara had to force herself to not do the same.

“Sorry to interrupt, but it seems I’ve lost your two friends?”

McNamara stared at him, picking the fakeness in his tone and his plastic smile apart. And considering that was something she was usually _terrible_ at, it was really saying something about how much of an awful actor he was.

“Pity,” Duke shot back dryly. “Sounds like a you problem.”

McNamara flinched when she saw a glint of annoyance appear in his eyes.

“I just came to ask if you’ve seen them anywhere.”

McNamara opened her mouth to reply, but was stopped by and elbow bashing into her arm.

“No, we haven’t,” Duke replied. “Sorry.”

McNamara knew she was anything but.

The grin on David’s face flickered for a moment, as if he were trying to hold it together.

“Are you sure? They said that they’d be in the dorms, but when I got back, they weren’t there-”

“Maybe they decided they were too good for you,” Duke snapped back, being so bold to cut him off. “Go get off somewhere else, would you?”

David looked startled at the sudden outburst from the petite girl. Then he let out a sickeningly low chuckle.

“Well, if they’re gone…” his words trailed off as he stalked over to the free space next to Duke. Heather stared at him, appalled that he would even _think_ about getting so close to her. “Maybe one of you could cover for them?” His eyes twinkled hopefully at them. McNamara wanted to gag.

 _You did this,_ is all she could think. _You made Heather scared._ Her vulnerable gaze was burning into her mind until it was almost painful.

“Fucking dream on, dickhead,” Duke jeered, hopping off of her stool to stand next to McNamara. “Maybe consider the fact there may be a reason why Heather doesn’t wanna suck your dick.”

David stared at her.

“She’s usually down for it,” he retorted. “I don’t see what would have changed.”

McNamara turned to Duke when she felt her arm brush her shoulder. She glanced down at the girl, who looked as if she were trying to search for her words.

“But it’s fine,” David slipped off of the stool and began making his way over to them both. “I’m sure one of you could be a good friend and help me out here, if she really isn’t feeling too good.” She and Duke coiled back, McNamara gripping her arm. Half of her expected her to shake her off - she had for the longest time viewed Duke as someone who had a distaste for physical contact. The other half was able to remind her of the night she’d willingly cuddled up to her, proving that assumption wrong.

And by the way Duke inched closer to her, it seems that it was that half of her that was right.

“No!” Duke spat, her voice beginning to sound more on edge. McNamara tugged her a little closer when David stopped mere inches apart from her. “I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that there was a reason Heather didn’t want to fuck you.”

“She was just being difficult tonight.” He shrugged. “I was hoping one of you would know better.”

McNamara could feel the panic flaring in her chest begin to transform into something else. God, she hated this fucker.

“We do,” she suddenly blurted out. “That’s why we want you to leave us alone.”

David turned his gaze to her, his eyes burning into her skull.

“You’re usually better than this,” he muttered, any friendliness in his voice disappearing. “Turns out you’re all just-”

 

* * *

 

“What? We’re what?” Heather edged forward slightly, waiting for McNamara to finish. The blonde glimpsed at her nervously.

“He just said something bad about you, is all,” she murmured, stroking her thumb on her cat’s head. Chandler rolled her eyes.

“Just tell us.”

McNamara swallowed before lifting her gaze to meet her, only to be interrupted by a door opening and closing. She whipped her head towards the living room door, eyes slightly panicked.

“It’s me,” Veronica recognized the voice of Duke, who soon opened the door to the living room. In one hand she held her handbag. “Oh, hey.” She nodded to Veronica and Heather. “You got here quick.”

“Hi, Heather,” McNamara smiled, opening her arms to release her cat from her grip. Foxy leaped down from her lap and cantered over to Duke, where he rubbed himself against her legs.

“Why are you not changed?” Chandler asked, eyeing the dress that she’d been wearing the night before.

“I haven’t had time!” she retorted, marching over to the couch. Veronica shifted over to give her a space between her and McNamara. “I’ve been up all night.”

“Really?” Veronica asked, giving her a concerned look. “How come?”

“I had to stay up with this one,” she said, pointing to the girl next to her. “I got some sleep in the waiting room at the hospital though.”

“Jesus.” Veronica blinked at her.

“I’ll just get some sleep when I get home-” She was interrupted by a yawn. “Ugh… has M told you what happened yet?”

“No,” Chandler replied. “She was about to tell us about that _thing_ David said about me.”

“Thing?” Duke blinked at her. “ _Oh_ , that thing.” She picked up her handbag from the floor and began to rummage through it. “Yeah, he called us a swarm of sluts and you an uncooperative whore.”

“Heather!” McNamara gasped.

“What the fuck?” Veronica barked, her face scrunching up with disgust. Anger began to bubble in her chest when she glanced at Chandler, who looked startled by her answer. “God, I should’ve fucking punched him in the goddamn mouth.”

Both Duke and McNamara went silent when she said that, instead just slowly turning to look at each other.

“Yeah, about that...” Duke said, turning to Veronica.

 

* * *

 

“Turns out you’re all just a swarm of sluts,” he sneered.

Both Duke and and McNamara gaped at him.

“ _What_?” Duke spat.

“Sorry, it’s not fair for me to blame you,” he said in an act of fake consideration. “It’s not your fault that your friend is an uncooperative whore.”

McNamara felt all anxiety leave her, the emotion warping into one of _anger_. She wasn’t entirely sure where it came from - maybe it was the beer in her system, or maybe it was the gross fucking words being spoken about her friend. _Her_ friend.

 _You don’t talk about Heather like that,_ is what she _wanted_  to say, but the rage burning through her body had stolen her ability to speak. Rather than forming words, that rage was flowing through her blood, down to her hands, making her fingers itch. She felt her eye twitch as she took a deep breath, trying to cool herself.

All her efforts went to waste, though, when David shifted over to Heather to wrap an arm around her. Heather squirmed under his touch, her face scrunching up in disgust,

“But I’m probably wrong,” his voice suddenly turned into something that was supposed to sound sweet, but ended up slimy. “Surely you can prove me wrong.”

“Get _off_ me,” Duke hissed, trying to break free from his grip but to not prevail. McNamara could feel her body quivering, desperate to break Heather out of this asshole’s hold.

So maybe that’s why she leaped off of her stool and reached up to grab him by the collar, thrusting him backwards. He lost his footing, to her satisfaction, and fell onto his back, staring up at her in shock.

It was in that moment that Heather knew she _should_ have backed down. She should have stopped, apologised, _something_. But the anger bubbling in her veins silenced her from doing such a thing.

She should have backed down. But she wouldn’t.

“Heather!” Duke exclaimed. McNamara could see her eyes were wide with surprise. “What the hell are you-”

“Is it a _fight_ you’re looking for, blondie?” David cut in, his eyes darkening. He was quick to get up on his feet, towering over McNamara’s 5’1 body. If she took a guess, he was probably even taller than Veronica - someone who _already_ exceeded her height by far.

The logical part of her brain was screaming at her to stop. The other part, infected with fury and alcohol, put plugs in its ears and refused to listen.

She could feel herself grow hot underneath her yellow clothes. Her limbs were growing stiff beneath the fabric. Her skin was uncomfortable under the sweat seeping through. Without a second thought, she pulled her dark yellow blazer off and threw it over to Duke, who had no choice other than to catch it.

“Heather-” she tried to speak again, but another familiar male voice interrupted her. She let out an annoyed groan.

“Woah, this bitch is actually looking for a fight!” Brad called from the crowd that McNamara had only just noticed had accumulated around her. She tried to keep her attention drawn away from the many pairs of eyes glued to her, despite being able to feel the many gazes piercing her bare skin. Her heart was beginning to race, and her breaths became more shallow.

“Is he really gonna fight her?” she heard someone say.

“She started it! He should finish it!” someone else exclaimed. It seemed the majority of the crowd agreed, with the way that a sudden uproar made from excited cheers sounded.

With each loud sound she heard, more and more adrenaline pumped through her blood.

“Heather, _sit down_ ,” she could hear Duke hiss, but the words went in one ear and out the other. It was almost as if Heather had become disconnected to her surroundings. Like she’d _forced_ herself to cut off ties with her surroundings. Maybe because she knew that if she accepted that she was currently surrounded by older college students, many of them strangers, she’d collapse under the pressure.

So it was best to keep her eyes glued to David’s ugly mug.

And the longer she stared at it, the more she wanted to hurt it.

“You’re a fucking idiot if you think-”

She refused to let him spit out another word. He’d said enough already. She clenched her hand into a fist and lunged it forward, slamming it into his mouth. She heard him yelp as the punch threw his head back, his feet staggering backwards in shock. She could hear the cheering sounding from around her go quiet as David leaned over, his hand clamped over his mouth. Heather just stared at him, ignoring the throbbing in her knuckles.

Then he lifted his head from his hand. It only took a tilt of her head for Heather to see that there was blood dripping onto his palm.

And she couldn’t stop the pride swelling in her chest when she spat onto the floor, a yellow-tinted tooth falling onto the dark red carpet.

The crowd was silent for a moment. Heather could only hear her heartbeat ringing in her head.

Then there was a chorus, a mixture of reactions. She was lucky enough to hear some amused _“OH!”_ ’s sound, but the sound of Brad screaming “fuck her up!” was off-putting. But it only took her thinking of what he had said about Heather, and what he had probably done to Heather, and what he had _tried_ to do to Heather to keep her legs from collapsing from under her. She stood up straight, as tall as she could muster with her 5’1 body.

She flinched when David lifted his gaze to look at her, his eyes two fiery pits.

“You have fucking nerve,” he growled, his voice rumbling. Heather held his gaze, trying to not shrink under it. He then marched over to her and swung an arm down, aiming for her face, but Heather had quick reflexes and blocked it with one arm, then like lightning, used the other to grip onto his side to hold him still. Her foot then shot up to his crotch region.

She couldn’t stop the grin crawling onto her face as he screamed in pain, holding the area that she had just kicked. A chorus of “ooooo’s” sounded from around her. She still ignored them.

“You fucking cunt!” he spat, his voice pained. Heather could just chuckle as his back hunched over in pain.

She was so focused on him that she didn’t notice the other figure storming towards her.

“Heather!” Duke called from behind her, which seemed to snap her attention away from David. She whipped her head to the side, and was met with a fist.

 

* * *

 

Duke watched in horror as Heather staggered backwards, her hands shooting up to the part of her face where Brad had punched. Without thinking, she darted forward to catch Heather in her tracks, her arm around her back.

“Heather, are you okay?” she asked, trying to catch her gaze. Heather’s eye’s were squeezed shut in pain, but it seemed that the sound of her voice made her blink one brown eye open.

The blonde didn’t speak. Instead she just stared at her, her other eye slowly opening. Her gaze then trailed around her, eyes scanning to crowd of college kids around her. Her head darted around, movements becoming more and more frantic, until she finally turned to face Heather again.

And it was then when Heather saw it in her gaze. _Fear._

“Come on, we’re _leaving_ ,” she told her, her voice as firm as she could make it out to be. She refused to give Heather a chance to respond, instead grabbed her by the arm and began dragging her in the direction of the exit. She weaved around Brad and David (one of whom was still cradling his balls) and forced her way through the crowd. She ignored the disappointed “boo’s” sounding from around her, instead focusing on shoving past the many teenagers who all smelt vaguely of sweat, cigarettes and alcohol.

She spotted the pile of coats and was quick to find her denim jacket, but couldn’t be bothered putting it on. Instead, she threw it over the arm that McNamara’s blazer was draped over.

She pulled her down the hallway and out the front door, then made her way down the concrete steps towards the street below. At no point did she let go of McNamara, as if scared that she would lose her.

She only let go of her when they got to her jeep, letting her climb onto the passenger side seat while she curved around to sit in the driver’s.

Duke felt like she could finally take a breather, and slumped back in her chair, waiting for her body to relax.

Then she turned to McNamara.

“You fucking dumbass!” she suddenly yelled, making her jolt in surprise. She turned towards her, still holding her face. She reached forward to grab her shoulders.

“You could’ve been- no, you _got_ hurt! What were you thinking, you dumb fuck?”

McNamara’s eyes dropped. Duke gave a frustrated groan.

“Just- move your hands for a second,” she told her, grabbing one of her wrists. She didn’t tug, though, and instead waited for her to move them by herself.

McNamara hesitated at first, but she shakily removed her hands from her face, and Duke widened her eyes when she saw blood running from her nose, over her pink lips and down her chin. McNamara kept her hands under her face to stop the blood threatening to drip onto the chair.

“Jesus Christ,” Duke muttered, her eyes coming up to look at the dark bruise on the bridge of her nose, which also had a bleeding cut on it. “You’re a dumbass.”

“...I know,” she croaked out, and it was then when Duke realised she hadn’t heard her voice for the past while.

She decided to bring a hand up to lightly touch the bruise on her face, which caused Heather to flinch back and wince in pain.

“It hurts,” she whimpered. Duke felt her own gaze soften.

“Obviously.” She leaned forward a little to get a closer look. She could see something was off about it, and it took her a few moments to realise that there may be a broken bone under her tanned skin, with how the usual smooth curve of her nose was slightly crooked. “Not to scare you or anything, but I think it’s broken.”

McNamara widened her eyes, and brought a hand back up to hold her nose. Duke still had one hand on her shoulder, and could feel the girl begin to quiver.

“W-what am I gonna do?” she stammered, staring at Duke with a frightened gaze. Duke just pursed her lips, and absent mindedly began to caress her arm in an attempt to calm her down.

“I…” She thought for a moment, staring at the hand that was covering her broken nose. “I’ll take you to the emergency room. We can get you fixed up there.”

Heather shakily nodded, but with how her eyes were glistening and panicked, Duke got the impression that she may begin to cry at any moment. She frowned, then sighed and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. “Okay, come here,” she said, her voice becoming quiet. McNamara just flopped into her embrace, resting her temple against her chest. She didn’t let out any sobs, but she let quiet whimpers and pained sniffs escape her.

Usually Duke would’ve told her to pull herself together, but after the events of tonight, she felt like a couple of tears here and there were appropriate. She let herself rest her chin on the top of her head.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, her voice weak.

“For what?” Duke asked, angling her head down to catch her eye.

“I’ve messed everything up!” she cried. “They’ll never let us back in after that.” She let out a shaky breath. “Heather’s gonna kill me…”

Duke let out a scoff, then pulled her off of her and held her head up by the chin.

“If Heather gets pissy with you for this, then fuck her,” she told her, her gaze firm. McNamara just stared back at her.

“But-”

“You and I both thought the same before. We both know David probably tried to rape her.” She swallowed when she said that. It felt odd saying it so bluntly. “He deserved it. Every second of it.” Her lips curled into a smile, and McNamara’s lips echoed the action. “It was a dumbass move on your part, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t the right thing to do.”

McNamara slowly blinked. “Then why was it a dumbass move?”

“Because, dipshit,” she gestured to her crooked, bleeding nose, “you got _hurt_!”

Heather’s brows raised.

“Is that why you’re mad? Because I got hurt?” A simper began to form.

“Yes! What the hell were you thinking?” Duke argued. “Did you honestly think you could take him? It was like watching David and Goliath!” She realised almost straight away that she had accidentally made a pun, and brought her hand to her forehead. “Only the names were reversed,” she added.

McNamara giggled sweetly. It sounded like music to Duke’s ears after listening to drunken, high teens screaming and cheering at a fight scene between a six foot tall college kid and a petite cheerleader.

“It worked, though, didn’t it?” she said, smiling. It would’ve been a cute smile, had their not been dried blood stuck to her smeared lipstick. “I knocked some of his teeth out, didn’t I?”

Duke stared at her for a moment, before giving a light huff.

“I suppose,” she admitted, smiling. “You almost got off scott-free, had Brad not clogged you in the fucking face.”

“Yeah…” She pouted, glancing at her nose. “It was worth it, though,” she said. “After what he did to Heather.” She frowned.

“We don’t even know what he _did_ do to Heather,” Duke said. Heather just shrugged.

“Nothing good,” she said, using the back of her hand to try and wipe off some blood. She looked at her hand, and looked alarmed when she saw how much red liquid had appeared on it. Duke sighed.

“Buckle in, Heather,” she told her, dragging her seat belt over to the slot. “We better get to the emergency room.”

Heather nodded, doing the same with her seat belt. As soon as she was in, Duke started up the car and began driving off, the Remington University building growing smaller and smaller in the mirror, until it was out of sight.

 _Thank Christ,_ she thought to herself.

 

* * *

 

“They’re taking their sweet-ass time,” Duke muttered, slumped back in her seat with McNamara doing the same.

“They’re probably busy. It _is_ Friday, after all.” She glimpsed at her. “There’s probably been a load of drunken fights tonight.”

“Yeah, I guess.” She looked at McNamara, who was holding an ice pack against her nose. At least the hospital had been kind enough to give her a temporary solution to the pain she was probably feeling right now.

“Does it hurt?” she asked, curious. McNamara turned to her.

“A little,” she said. “The ice made it better though.”

“By better, you mean you’re whole face has gone numb?”

She giggled. “Yeah, it has.”

Duke let out an amused huff, before turning towards the clock that was moving ever so slowly.

She let out a groan when she saw that it was coming up to midnight.

“You okay?” McNamara asked. Duke was greeted by some black hair flopping over her face as she sank into her seat, and blew it out of her way.

“I’m tired and impatient, so no.”

“Me too,” McNamara chuckled, shifting a little closer to her. Duke was too tired to care - she could already feel her lids becoming heavy.

She flinched when she felt Heather’s head fall onto her shoulder, though.

“Will Heather be mad at me?” she heard her murmur. Duke blinked.

“I don’t know,” she said, shrugging the shoulder that Heather wasn’t leaning on. “We’ll have to wait and see.”

“I hope not,” she whimpered, giving up in holding the ice pack against her nose and letting it drop onto her lap.

“It would be stupid if she did,” she told her. “Not saying she won’t, I’m just saying she’d be in the wrong if she did.”

“Mmm… I guess…” Heather hummed, adjusting herself so that she was curled up on her chair, her shoulder brushing against hers.

Heather felt the urge to shove her off - she didn’t want to look like some sort of pillowcase. Not in public.

And yet, the girl’s warmth up against her was so comforting, considering how cold it had been outside, and how uncomfortable the sweaty air had been in the university. And she’d be damned if she wasn’t on the verge of heading into a deep sleep herself.

She decided to say _fuck it_ because Heather’s blonde curls were as soft as a pillow and her body was warm. She was the closest thing she had to a bed, so she might as well take advantage of it.

She rested her head on Heather’s, allowing her lids to droop over her eyes and for the exhaustion to take over, which didn’t take long. As soon as her eyes closed, she felt herself begin to drift away from consciousness, and she wondered if Heather was the same.

They were rudely interrupted some time later, when someone called out Heather’s name. They both jolted awake, and Heather was called into a room somewhere. Duke could only watch her disappear behind a corner that lead to a corridor, feeling a newfound loneliness in being left in the waiting room alone.

Someone came up behind her and tapped her on the shoulder. She whipped her head around to see a nurse, who asked her if she could call Heather’s parents.

“ _Parent_ ,” she had to correct her, before begrudgingly hauling herself off of the seat and making her way around the row of chairs and over to a payphone hanging on the wall.

She had to rack her tired brain for a moment, trying to remember the number to Heather’s landline. She eventually remembered the order of the numbers, and began to dial, holding the phone up against her ear to wait for the ringing to stop.

She waited there for about thirty seconds, listening to the sound of ringing in her ear, only to be met with a beeping after a while. She let out a frustrated groan as she slammed the phone back on the stand. Of _course_ her dad wouldn’t be in. He was always out of Friday nights, going to bars and banging whatever chick he happened to stumble into.

She leaned back against the wall for a moment, crossing her arms over her chest as she thought about tonight.

Then she let out a sigh, before picking up the phone again, dialing Heather’s number.

She waited again for the phone to stop ringing on the other end, and after a while it _did_ , but she was only met with silence. She muttered a curse word under her breath, figuring that Heather had picked up the phone and slammed it back down again.

Part of her doesn’t blame her. It’s been a wild night, and she was sure that she didn’t want to face talking to anyone else after everything that had happened. On the other hand, she needed to tell her about what had happened one way or another.

 _Whatever,_ she thought, placing the phone back on the stand and beginning to make her way back to the seat. _I’ll just call her tomorrow._

As she sat down, she thought about the idea for a second.

 _Or we can meet up and just… talk._ She looked at her hands and started to twiddle her thumbs. _We’re not the only ones who’ve been through some shit tonight. We can just talk about it._

The idea seemed silly to her. Heather Chandler didn’t talk about that kind of shit. Or anything, for that matter.

But after what they’d been through tonight, after what _McNamara_ had gone through, she felt like giving her a quick recap over the phone was simply too tacky.

She let out a long sigh as she grabbed her and Heather’s jackets off the back of their chairs and placed them on a seat, before swinging her legs up onto another and resting her head on the yellow blazer and denim jacket. It wasn’t a good pillow by any means, but with Mac gone, her only other options were to stay awake or to awkwardly let her head flop over the back of her seat, which would no doubt give her a crick in the neck after some time.

She let her eyes close, thankful that she could get an ounce of sleep, even if it was on some uncomfortable hard chairs. Oh well. At least McNamara’s blazer was soft, and had a pleasant scent. One that reminded her of the sweetness of honey.

And after the foul scents of sweat and alcohol, mixed with the humid atmosphere that was a room filled with college kids that she had to experience today, it was a welcome sensation.

 

* * *

 

“And that’s pretty much it,” Duke finished, placing some small bottles of ibuprofen and paracetamol on the coffee table in front of them, then placing her bag back on the floor. “We stayed at the hospital for a couple of hours while she got patched up and got back at about three or four in the morning.”

“Shit, you must be exhausted,” Veronica said, shooting them both a sympathetic look. “And that… really sucks,” she turned to McNamara. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.” McNamara smiled reassuringly. “The doctor said it should be back to normal in a couple of weeks.” She turned towards the medication on the coffee table and grabbed the ibuprofen, twisting the cap around. “For now I’m gonna have to sleep on my back though.” She pouted sadly. “Dunno how I’m gonna manage that.” She grabbed two ibuprofen pills and threw them into her mouth.

“Oh, do you want me to get you some water-” Veronica stopped when she saw her gulp down the pills without a second thought. “...Oh.”

“What?”

“Look at you! Fuckin’ dry-swallowing pills.” Veronica nodded to the bottle in her hand.

“Oh, yeah.” She placed the pills back on the table. “It’s not too hard.”

“Speak for yourself,” Duke rolled her eyes.

“Aside from that, _Jesus Christ_ you knocked his fucking teeth out?” Veronica quipped. “I didn’t think you had it in you!”

“Yeah, _me neither_ ,” Duke joshed. “So imagine what it was like watching the whole thing go down!”

“I’m sorry!” McNamara exclaimed. “I was drunk and I wasn’t thinking straight!”

“I could tell!” Duke stared at her, though humour was seeping into her tone. “Not that I’m complaining. He deserved it.”

Veronica vigorously nodded. “Heather’s right. You gave him what was coming.” She smiled and gave her a pat on the shoulder. “And I would’ve loved to see you clog him in the mouth.” She stifled a giggle at the thought of that douche getting his shit handed to him. “And that balls.”

McNamara smiled widely at her. “Uh, thanks! I guess?” She tilted her head and looked a little uncertain, but seemed grateful nonetheless.

“How the hell did you manage, though?” Veronica asked. “He’s… a pretty big dude.”

“She’s stronger than you’d think,” Duke said, poking her arm. “Talk about hidden strength.”

“I’m not that strong. It’s just what I pick up from cheerleading practice.”

Duke arched a brow at her, before lifting her own arm and flexing her bicep. “Do this,” she told her, nodding to her own arm. McNamara pursed her lips, before mimicking the action. In looking at the differences between the two of them, Veronica realised for the first time that McNamara was kinda buff.

And by that, she meant _holy shit_ McNamara had some fucking muscles that she had no idea existed.

“Jesus,” she commented, blinking at McNamara’s muscular arm. “That punch you gave him must’ve _hurt_.”

“She knocked his fucking teeth out. No way he’ll be crossing her path any time soon,” Duke laughed.

“That is, if we’re lucky enough to get back into a Remington party to begin with,” Chandler suddenly muttered. “And it’s likely we won’t.” She flickered her gaze up to the three of them, her blue eyes dark.

McNamara frowned. “I mean… you never know-”

“There’s _no_ fucking way we’ll ever be let back into the place!” she snapped, cutting the blonde off. “We’re gonna get _so_ much shit for this!”

McNamara visibly shrunk under her gaze, while Duke and Veronica just glared at her.

“Why are you yelling at _us_?” Duke shot back. “You’re the one who left first.”

“Shut up, Heather!” she hissed bitterly, silencing the girl. “It wasn’t _me_ who suggested we leave!” She aimed her gaze at Veronica, her cold gaze burning into her skull. Veronica just stared back at her, bold stupidity flaring in her chest.

“We talked about this, Heather!” she argued. “If you wanted to stay, then you should’ve!” _You shouldn’t have,_ Veronica told her internally. _But that’s not the point._

Heather opened her mouth to respond, her eyes blazing, but no words came out. Veronica didn’t need to be told why. She’d already had this conversation with her, and it had ended up in tears on her end.

And remembering that made her suddenly regret yelling at her, replaced by the urge to stand up to go over to her and wrap her arms around her, as some sort of reminder that she made the right decision. But she knew she couldn’t do that. Not right now.

“Look… Heather,” Veronica turned back to McNamara, who was now keeping her head down. “Do you want us to stay with you for the rest of the day? To check if you’re okay and everything?”

Heather lifted her gaze up and she gingerly smiled at her.

“I’ll be fine, Veronica. It’s okay.”

“We could still hang,” Veronica shrugged, smiling at her. McNamara just gazed sadly at her.

“I’d love to, but…” She pursed her lips into a line.

“She got grounded as soon as she walked through the door,” Duke said bluntly. “She can’t ‘hang’ with any of us for another week.”

“Well that’s shit,” Veronica said, frowning. “Are we not even allowed to stay here? Just, in your house?”

She shook her head. “You technically aren’t supposed to be here, but I wanted to tell you what happened.” She turned towards the door with a blank stare. “Besides, dad isn’t in anyway.” She then whipped her head around to look at the clock on the wall. “But… he’ll be back soon.” She shot them all an apologetic look. “You guys are probably gonna have to head off before he gets back.”

“Oh.” Veronica curtly nodded, disappointed by the abrupt ending of their meetup.

“Alright, then,” Duke said, standing up. “I needed a nap anyway.”

McNamara gave a huff. “Yeah, you’ve been up all night.” She stood up to point at her mascara, which was slightly smudged. “And you’ve been wearing the same makeup for twelve hours straight.”

That suddenly reminded Veronica of the foundation in the pocket of her dress.

“Oh, Heather!” she exclaimed, reaching for the foundation. “That reminds me,” she pulled it out and tossed it to her. Duke widened her eyes, only just managing to catch the container. She flipped it over to look at it, before shooting Veronica a weird look.

“Where did you get this?” she asked. Veronica nodded over to Chandler, who was silently standing behind the three of them, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Heather’s car,” she told her dryly. Duke shot Chandler a glare.

“Why did you have my-”

“You left it in my car the other day!” she cut her off, shrugging. “Not my fault you leave you shit in there all the time.”

Duke gave a huff of disbelief, but said nothing else. Instead, she shoved the foundation in her bag and hooked the handle over her shoulder.

“We’ll see you, Heather,” Veronica said, stepping towards the blonde. She couldn’t help but feel sorry for the shorter girl, what with the bandage currently stuck to her face. She gave a pitiful smile, before pulling her in for a hug. “Don’t get into any more fights, okay?” she told her while her chin still lingered on her shoulder, humour seeping into her voice. “Not that I don’t think you couldn’t take them, but…” She lifted her head to nod to her bandage. McNamara just giggled.

“I can’t leave the house anyway,” she said. “Other than school, that is.”

Veronica’s brows knitted. “See you Monday, then.” She simpered at her. McNamara smiled back.

“Bye,” she said, offering a friendly gaze to Duke, and then Chandler.

“See ya,” Duke said, beginning to make her way towards the door.

“Thanks for the meds, by the way!” McNamara called after her.

Duke just gave her a thumbs up, before exiting the room. Veronica began to follow on, glancing at Chandler as she began to stroll towards the door, waiting for her to begin moving. It took a moment for her to catch her gaze, and when she did, she immediately began to walk in her direction.

“Later,” is all she said to McNamara, catching up with Veronica who had stopped to let her reach her. Once she was standing next to her, they both made their way over to the living room door.

Just as they reached the door frame, McNamara called out,

“I hope you’re okay.”

Veronica could see from the corner of her eye that Heather had stopped in her tracks. She paused as well, glancing over her shoulder to see Chandler gazing behind her, her face out of Veronica’s view.

“You too,” is all she heard her say, before she turned back around, her face unreadable to Veronica. She didn’t have much time to try and figure it out, either, since Heather picked up her pace to take the lead.

It was when they were both back in the car when Veronica began to felt somewhat guilty leaving the girl behind. She gazed out the window of the passenger side door and stared at the house, wondering if there was a way to make up for the fact that they were leaving the injured girl alone for the next two days.

She hadn’t noticed herself humming out loud while she was deep in thought, but Heather did.

“What is it?” Heather asked, buckling herself in and turning the keys in the ignition. Veronica whipped her head back around to look at her.

“I was just thinking…”

 

* * *

 

Using _this_ amount of pillows was uncomfortable, to say the least. Apparently keeping your head upright reduces swelling when your nose is broken. Heather wasn’t sure why, that’s just what the doctor told her.

 _It could be worse,_ she thought to herself as she stared at the ceiling above. _Had it been worse, I’d have to stay at the hospital for much longer._ She shuddered at that idea. Being stuck in that foul smelling building for two weeks didn’t sound appealing in the slightest. Thank God the worst of her symptoms was a constant feeling of a stuffy nose and the occasional nosebleed.

“Heather!”

She lazily glanced at the door, even though her dad’s voice was sounding from downstairs.

“Yeah?” she called back, her voice slightly husky from exhaustion.

“I’m going out,” he replied. “You remember the doses, right?”

Heather rolled her eyes. Of _course_ she knew them. She’d been taking them by herself all day.

“Yeah!” she responded, trying to hide the annoyance in her voice.

“You’re using those extra pillows I gave you, aren’t you?”

“ _Yes,_ ” she sharply replied, becoming impatient.

“Good. Don’t even think about going out tonight. See you tomorrow.”

“Bye.” She listened for the sound of the door slamming and let out a groan. It had only been a brief conversation, and yet she felt drained. Despite that, she didn’t feel all that tired. Her sleep schedule was now completely screwed over, since she’d fallen asleep on the couch and slept for about four hours on the damn thing, woke up to get dinner, then fell right back asleep again.

So now she was wide awake. Wonderful.

Regardless, she let her eyes close, wondering if it would make her any more tired. She didn’t really have anything else to do, anyway. Not when she was grounded.

In the silence of her room, the sound of something hitting her window pane made her eyes shoot open. She sat up to look at the window and stared at it for a moment.

Nothing.

Probably just a branch, she assumed. After all, there was a tree just outside her window.

She fell back on her bed, wincing when she felt a slight pain shoot through her nose when she hit the mattress. It was quick to fade, though.

She lay there for a few more seconds, before she heard it again. Then again.

She looked back at the window, confused, before sitting back up to shuffle over her bed and slide onto the floor. She made her way over to the window and peeked outside.

Then she gasped.

Down on the ground below, she saw Heather, Heather and Veronica. Confused as all hell, she slid the window open, wide enough for her to lean out of it.

“Guys? What are you doing here?” she called down below, though her voice was slightly hushed. She wasn’t entirely sure why - her dad had just left. No one would hear her.

“Heather!” Veronica called back. “Mind opening the front door for us?”

Heather blinked at her, dumbfounded. “Why? I’m grounded, remember?”

“Didn’t your dad literally just leave?” Chandler asked, folding her arms.

“Yeah, but he took the keys.”

“So you’re locked in?” Duke asked. Heather slowly nodded.

“Sorry, guys,” she muttered apologetically.

“We could always climb through a window,” Veronica suggested, shrugging. Chandler gaped at her.

“I’m not climbing through a window in these heels!”

McNamara sheepishly smiled. “You don’t have to. He locked all the windows downstairs too.”

Veronica stared at her in bewilderment. “The fuck? Why’d he do that?”

Heather gave an exasperated sigh. “It was _just in case I got any stupid ideas,_ ” she jeered, rolling her eyes. “So only the second floor windows are open.”

“Well that’s bullshit,” Veronica muttered, pouting. Heather furrowed her brow.

“Why are you all here, anyway?” she asked. “Were you planning to sneak me out?”

“More like sneak in,” Veronica said, chuckling. “We weren’t gonna drag you anywhere when you still have a bandage on your face.”

McNamara lightly poked the white cloth stuck to her nose and gave a light huff.

“Yeah, you’re right.” She looked back down at the three of them. “But uh… sorry I can’t let you in, guys.”

“Great, we got changed for nothing,” she heard Chandler mutter quietly, as if McNamara wasn’t supposed to hear it. The blonde frowned.

“Unless…” Veronica suddenly said, her gaze raking the large tree that grew right up against the house. McNamara gave her a look of perplexity, wondering what she was thinking.

“Unless what?” Duke questioned, also looking curious to why she had her eyes fixed on the big oak.

Veronica let out a mischievous snicker, before beginning to stalk over to the slightly hunched trunk.

“Don’t suppose…” she murmured, looking back at the two girls standing just behind her. “This is climbable?”

In the low light, McNamara could see Duke’s green eyes widen and Chandler gape at her.

“Are you fucking dense?” Chandler scoffed at her. “There’s no way you can-”

Veronica completely ignored her, hopping onto the trunk with her arms locked around the rigid wood. The Heathers all stared at her in bewilderment.

“Veronica, you will actually fall and break your neck,” Duke scolded her. Veronica just giggled and continued to shuffle up the tree. McNamara felt a twinge of anxiety in seeing the gap between her and the grass below grow larger and larger as she continued to climb.

“Veronica, please get down!” she begged. “You’re gonna hurt yourself!”

“Mac’s right. The point on coming here was to check on our injured friend, not _gain another one_ ,” Chandler growled. Though she was fairly far down, McNamara could see a glint of worry in her eyes which were lit up by the lamp posts circling her house.

Veronica eventually made it to a dip in the tree, which Veronica happily slumped onto. She let her legs hang over the edge and swing back and forth playfully.

“Aw, that’s sweet. You’re concerned about my safety,” Veronica cooed, batting her lashes at the strawberry blonde, who just glared at her with a hint of venom. Veronica giggled at her reaction. “Well, you guys coming up or not?”

Both Duke and Chandler stared at her, dumbfounded. McNamara raised her brows at them, unsure whether or not she wanted them to go through with it.

Then Duke gave a sigh. “Well, I don’t really wanna go back home after getting all dolled up,” she muttered, beginning to make her way towards the tree. Veronica grinned, then held out her arms.

“Kay, grab on,” she told her. Duke had to hop in order to reach her hands, and yelped in surprise when Veronica yanked her off the ground. She clumsily scrambled up the trunk with her feet, and McNamara was thankful she wasn’t wearing heels. There were a few moments where she thought she might slip out of Veronica’s grip and onto the ground, making McNamara’s heart race, so seeing Veronica grab her by the waist to haul her up with her onto the ledge of the tree at last sent a big wave of relief through her, and she exhaled.

“Are you okay, Heather?” McNamara asked. Duke let out a big sigh, before turning towards her and nodding.

“I feel like I'm committing a crime,” she said. Veronica chuckled, before looking behind her.

“Is there room for Heather, here?” she pondered. Duke shrugged.

“That’s real cute if you think I’m joining you up there,” Chandler sneered. Veronica smirked.

“ _Pussy,_ ” she joshed. Chandler glared at her.

“I’m not, I just so happen to care about keeping my neck in tact.”

Duke and Veronica both giggled.

“Oh, come on, Heather,” Duke sniggered from behind Veronica, kneeling up so that she could peer over her shoulder. “We all know the _real_ reason.” She smirked. “You still scared of heights after all these years?”

Chandler widened her eyes, her shoulders tensing up.

“Of course not!”

“Prove it,” Duke said, a smug grin on her face. Chandler snarled, before marching over the tree.

“Shut up. I’ll fucking prove it-” She flung her arms up, waiting for Veronica to grab her. The brunette reached for her hands, and no jump was needed for them to grab each other due to her height. Veronica heaved her up, and Chandler attempted to copy Duke in grappling the tree with her shoes. McNamara watched her shakily climb up the wood, then gasped when she slipped, the only thing saving her from falling backwards being Veronica’s firm grip on her.

“Wasn’t the best idea to wear heels, Heather,” Veronica commented.

“Sorry that I didn’t anticipate climbing up a fucking tree?

“Say,” McNamara leaned out the window a little further. “Wanna throw them up here? I should be able to catch them.” She held her hands out, making grabbing motions with her fingers.

Chandler gazed up at her, thinking about her offer. Then she let out a groan, before letting go of Veronica to slip her heels off.

 

* * *

 

Veronica watched as Chandler slipped off her heels, now standing barefoot on the grass. She muttered something inaudible as she leaned down to grab her shoes, then angled her head up to look at McNamara.

“Don’t hit her in the face,” Veronica told her, glancing at the pink shoe in her hand being waved back and forth in preparation to take flight.

“No promises,” Heather shot back, not looking up at her, instead keeping her gaze fixed on the blonde holding out her hands at the window. “Though I’ll do my best,” she added, before swinging her arm back and launching it at the window. Veronica cringed, half-expecting the heel to hit her square in the nose, but she let out a sigh of relief when McNamara caught it.

“Got it!” she exclaimed, placing it somewhere behind her. “Okay, throw the other one up.”

Chandler got her other shoe at the ready, and threw it at the blonde. McNamara almost dropped it, due to latching onto it by the front of the heel, but she managed.

“Great,” Veronica said, stretching her arms towards Heather again. “Now let’s go.”

“I’m going to get fucking splinters,” Chandler mumbled as she latched back onto Veronica’s hands. Veronica let out a light chuckle as the girl winced when she dug her feet into the bark, her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip to stop herself from yelping in pain. Once she was high enough, Veronica rapidly let go of her hands to wrap her arms around her torso, and she pulled her up to the ledge.

She heard Heather let out a gasp as she clambered onto the space, though she ended up sitting half-on half-off of Veronica, due to the lack of room left for her. Her legs were awkwardly splayed across Veronica’s lap, and she was clinging onto a smaller trunk as if she were about to fall.

Though, if Veronica were being honest, she probably was without the support.

“Wow, thanks for leaving room for me, guys,” she jeered sarcastically. Duke gave a huff.

“We won’t be here for long,” she said, her small body shifting closer to the thick branch that leaned towards McNamara’s window. Veronica took that opportunity to shuffle back a bit, in an attempt to give Chandler more room. She begrudgingly took it, though she still had her legs drooped over Veronica’s thighs, though her back was now leaning against the trunk she’d been clinging onto.

Veronica had to admit, she wouldn’t mind staying in this position for a little while longer. Chandler (half) sitting on her lap in a tree, under the moonlight, her warm body brushed up against her in the cold night air. It was a nice thought, and one she would’ve loved to ponder on for longer than she was able to.

“What’s the plan now?” Duke asked, cautiously lifting herself to stand up, hands gripping onto the branch.

“Hmm…” Veronica hummed as her eyes trailed the path to McNamara’s window. “Okay, Heather,” she looked at Duke, “you go first.”

“Why me?” she whined. “Why not Heather?”

“Because you look like you’re ready to do a goddamn tightrope walk,” Chandler said.

“Yeah, you’re closest to the branch,” Veronica agreed. “Also, you’re the smallest out of all of us, so if anything _does_ happen, we won’t get crushed.”

Duke arched a brow. “As if you’re climbing this thing at the same time as me.”

“Heather’s right!” McNamara called from the window. “That branch is strong, but I don’t think it can support all of your weight at once. I think you should go one at a time.”

Veronica gave a nod, though she took note of feeling Heather stiffen next to her. She turned to her.

“You okay with that?” she asked, her voice growing quiet.

“Yeah,” she said, her voice sounding casual. Her blue gaze was stuck to Heather Duke clambering onto the branch and beginning to stalk up the bark. She pursed her lips into a tight line.

Veronica shot her a concerned look. “Do you actually have a fear of heights or was Heather just fucking with you?” she whispered. Heather flashed her an angered glare.

“No!” she spat, before her voice dropped into a murmur. “I used to.”

Veronica offered a half smile, knowing full well that “used to” meant “yes, I do, and I’ve refused to face it since.”

“Hey, I’ll be right behind you, okay?” She placed a hand on her shoulder, ignoring the creaking of the branch as Duke continued to shuffle along it. “You’ll be fine.”

“As if I’m going _first_ ,” Heather scoffed, folding her arms.

“If you go first, I’ll be able to catch you if you slip.”

Heather widened her eyes at her, and Veronica realised her mistake.

“Not saying you _will_ ,” she clarified, holding both of her shoulders. “I’m just saying, you’ll be safe, okay?”

Heather bit the inside of her cheek and looked away, before giving a grunt.

“Whatever.”

Veronica smiled at her, before turning back to see Duke nearing the end of the branch. McNamara was holding out her arms towards her, ready to help her onto the window sill.

“Come on, almost there!” McNamara chanted, stretching a little further. Duke shoved herself up further along the branch, which was enough for her to lunge forward and grab Heather’s arms. McNamara grabbed her too, then pulled her up off the branch and onto the window sill.

“Fucking hell, Heather,” Duke muttered. “You could stop someone’s blood circulation with that grip.”

McNamara giggled. “I’m just scared of dropping you, is all,” she said, stepping back when Duke was finally kneeling on the window sill. She let go of one of her arms and opted to hold her hand as she clambered through the open window. It was satisfying to see Duke hop down onto the floor inside, safe and sound. Veronica let out a sigh she wasn’t aware she was holding.

“Okay, Heather, you’re up!” Duke called, now having the privilege of being able to lean out the window. Chandler scowled at her, before shifting around Veronica to grab the branch. She shakily lifted herself up, and Veronica stood up behind her.

“You good?” she asked. Heather gave a scoff.

“Of course.” She paused to stare at the sloped branch that led up to the window, before she took in a deep breath and scrambled onto the trunk. Veronica held onto her waist as she tried to secure herself.

“Stop touching my ass, pervert,” she heard her hiss. Veronica gave an amused snort.

“Not what you said last night.”

Heather then slapped her arm, making her coil back.

Both McNamara and Duke stared at them in confusion, having not heard what made Heather do that. Thank God.

“Go on, Heather, I’m right behind you,” Veronica said, getting ready to climb onto the branch. For a moment, Heather did nothing, but eventually she began to shuffle forward. Veronica waited until she had room to climb on, and while she did, she noticed that Heather’s arms were quivering. Worry began to build up in her chest, as did some sort of need to protect her.

“Don’t look down,” she told her.

Then Heather looked down.

“No, _don’t_ look down!”

Heather glared at her with slightly panicked eyes. “If you’re going to tell me _not_ to do something, I’m obviously gonna do it!”

“Okay, then _don’t_ look forward!” Veronica said. Heather took a deep breath, before turning her head forward. She continued to crawl along the branch, nails digging into the ridges of the bark.

“God, Heather, take your fucking time!” Duke called.

“Shut _up_ , Heather!” she hissed. Veronica frowned when she heard a hint of fear in her voice.

“Keep hanging in there, you’re halfway there,” she whispered to her.

“I _know_ ,” she snapped, beginning to pick up the pace along the branch. Maybe a little too fast for Veronica’s liking.

“Hey, Heather, you don’t have to-”

“ _Fuck!_ ” Heather suddenly yelped as she misjudged the width of the branch, her hand slipping off and causing her to lose balance. Veronica gasped and lunged forward to grab her by the waist, pulling her up into a sitting position.

“You okay?” she asked, arms firmly wrapped around her abdomen.

“Heather!” McNamara gasped, leaning further out of the window. “Are you alright?”

“I’m _fine_!” she hissed, though by the way her hands were shaking against Veronica’s own, she could tell that she had a bit of a scare.

“It’s okay, you’re safe,” Veronica murmured, shifting a little closer to the shaken girl, her chest touching her back.

“I’m _not_ safe!” Heather fired back, turning around to meet her with blazing eyes. “I nearly fell!”

“Yell it loud enough for the neighbourhood to hear, would ya?” Duke scoffed.

“ _Shut up, Heather!_ ” Chandler, Veronica and McNamara scolded, which caught her off guard. She shrank away from the window, opting to stand behind McNamara instead. Veronica was a little surprised that McNamara had snapped at her, but with how she was reaching towards the branch as best as she could, her brown gaze filled with concern, she guessed she was just worried for Heather’s safety.

“It’s okay, Heather!” the blonde called out to her reassuringly. “Just a little bit more, and I’ve got you!” She stretched her arm out as far as it could go. Heather stared at it for a moment, before leaning away from Veronica’s hold and continuing her journey along the branch. Veronica shot her a supportive smile, even though she knew she couldn’t see it.

A little bit further on, and Heather was able to reach for McNamara’s hand.

“Okay, I’ll guide you on the window sill. Then you’ll be safe,” she said, using both hands to hold her arm. Heather looked at the small gap between the edge of the branch and the window sill and frowned.

“There’s a gap. I’ll fall.”

“You won’t, I promise!” McNamara said, holding her gaze with a smile. “I’ve got you, and so does Veronica.” She nodded to the brunette behind her. When Heather turned to look at her, as if making sure she was still there, Veronica smiled.

“We’ve got you, okay?” Veronica said, reaching forward to rub her arm. Heather sighed, then looked at McNamara.

“Drop me and see what happens.”

“I know what will happen,” McNamara said as she began to cautiously lead her onto the window sill. “You’ll fall.”

Heather seemed to freeze for a moment.

“But you won’t!” McNamara quickly added, reaching to grab Heather’s sides. “See? You’re-” she grunted as she hauled her onto the ledge. “Safe!” She loosened her grip when Chandler was safely kneeling on the window sill.

“Good. Now let me in, I’ve had enough parkour for the day,” she said, twisting herself around to slip through the window. She plopped onto the floor, and let out a big sigh of relief.

“Just you now, Veronica!” McNamara called, reaching out her arms. Veronica smiled gratefully, beginning to shuffle along the rest of the branch. She soon got close enough to reach her hand, and she let her pull her over to the ledge.

But as she did, Veronica’s foot hooked around the edge and threw her forward, which also caused a major imbalance. She yelped she she felt her legs slip over the edge of the window sill.

“Veronica!” McNamara screamed, grappling onto her sides. Veronica’s eyes widened as she felt half of her body hanging over the edge, the only thing holding her up being the three hands holding her.

Wait, three?

She glanced at the third hand grappling her black sleeve, and saw that Chandler had lunged forward to grab her. She was surprised that she had bothered to do such a thing, but she couldn’t help but smile.

“Holy shit, are you alright?” McNamara gasped, hauling her back onto the window sill and then through the window.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she breathed, holding her chest, where she could feel her heart racing for the adrenaline. “Thanks for catching me.” She looked at McNamara and Chandler and smiled.

“You dumbass!” Chandler suddenly snapped, hitting her on the arm. “You nearly snapped your fucking neck!”

“You gave us a collective heart attack,” Duke added.

Veronica rubbed where she had been hit, even though it didn’t actually hurt, and she gingerly smiled.

“Guess you were right about climbing the tree being a bad idea,” she chuckled, gazing at Chandler.

“No shit,” she muttered, marching over to McNamara’s bed.

“Sucks that we’re going to have to climb back down later,” Duke said, a glint of mischief in her voice. After Chandler took a seat on the bed, she glared at her.

“Why couldn’t we just pick the lock like _normal_ teenagers,” she groaned.

“So I take it you’re still scared of heights?” Duke asked, smirking.

“Shut the hell up,” Chandler snapped. Veronica and McNamara just giggled as they walked towards the bed to join her, along with Duke close behind.

 

* * *

 

The group had opted to throw in the first VHS tape that they found, that being Child’s Play.

“I thought you weren’t into horror movies,” Veronica stated, looking at McNamara. She had to lean forward a little, since Chandler sat in between them both on the bed.

“I’m trying to break out of my shell a little,” she replied. “I figured this movie wouldn’t be too bad.”

“Why’s that?” Duke asked from next to her.

McNamara shrugged. “I mean, how bad can a movie about a doll be?” she said. “There won’t be that much blood and gore, right?”

The three of them went silent.

“...Right?” she repeated, glancing at all three of them frantically, fiddling with the ice pack on her lap.

“I mean… he murders people,” Veronica said.

“Spoilers, Veronica!” Chandler snapped, though she was by no means serious.

“Not really,” Veronica shot back playfully. “It’s a given.”

“Well, too late to turn back now!” McNamara shrugged as the movie began to play the opening scene. Some dude - Charles, Heather remembered his first name - was transferring his soul to a doll. She found the idea ridiculous, and the extent that the film went to make it intense didn’t help.

Even McNamara seemed unphased by the exaggerated cinematography, by how she stared blankly at the screen while absent mindedly tapping her ice pack.

“That doll gives me the creeps,” Duke commented from the other end of the bed. Chandler scoffed at her.

“It’s just plastic. It’s not scary.”

“It looks too much like you,” Duke then said. Chandler glared at her, though she failed to catch her gaze. She could see a shit-eating grin threatening to break her stoic expression, though.

“I swear to God, if you say it’s because the doll’s ging-”

“The doll’s ginger,” she said, snickering. Chandler snarled at her, and considered snatching the ice pack from McNamara to slam it into the girl’s head, but she decided against it. Not for Duke’s sake, but more because she knew McNamara kind of needed that ice pack for her broken bone.

“Hey, now,” Veronica suddenly chimed in, leaning forward again. “Ginger hair can look really nice.”

Heather swallowed when she heard the brunette say that. Mainly because she _knew_ she was talking about her.

“You’re the one who made the joke to begin with,” Duke retorted.

Also true.

“Yeah, you’re not one to speak,” Chandler told her, eyeing her. Veronica pursed her lips, before slumping back onto the pile of pillows that McNamara had made to act like a couch.

“Speaking of which,” Veronica then said. “Where’s Foxy?”

Chandler saw McNamara shrug from the corner of her eye. “Downstairs, probably.” She glanced over at the ajar door. “But I left the door open in case he wanted to come in.”

“Tell me if he comes in!”

Chandler turned to the girl slumped next to her and arched a brow.

“Why do you love Foxy so much?”

Veronica glanced up at her for a moment, before her lips began to curl into a smile. Chandler’s bros knitted, and she was about to ask her what was so funny, but then Veronica sat up to lean into her ear, hands cupping her mouth. Chandler tried to pretend that the girl’s breath skimming over her lobe didn’t send shivers down her spine, as she whispered,

“I guess I just love pussy.”

Heather stared at her with a dumbfounded look for about five silent seconds, before laughter began to force its way out of her mouth. A snicker turned into a giggle, which then turned into loud haughty laughter, accompanied by Veronica.

 _I shouldn’t be laughing at that,_ she thought to herself. But goddammit, it had caught her off guard that she couldn’t help but laugh.

“What’s so funny?” she could hear Duke ask over the two girl’s fits of giggles. Chandler tried to stop the laughter from pouring out her mouth, but for some fucking reason, hearing Veronica whisper the word ‘pussy’ in her ear was so fucking funny to her.

“Why are you both laughing?” McNamara asked as well. Chandler clamped a hand over her mouth in some odd attempt to silence herself, though all it really did was muffle her voice.

“N-nothing,” Veronica was able to splutter out, still laughing that extremely contagious laugh of hers. And damn that laugh for being contagious, since it was just drawing out Chandler’s giggles for longer than she would’ve liked.

“Clearly _something_ is funny,” Duke muttered, unconvinced.

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” Chandler eventually said after she caught her breath.

“...Sure.”

She felt a wave of relief when the girl gave up on trying to get the truth out of them. As stupid as the joke was, she dared not repeat it to her. Maybe because of the ‘it’s funny because it’s true’ rule being a bit too strong.

The two of them eventually calmed down, but they would occasionally catch each other’s eye with subtle side glances that they shot each other, and the corners of their mouths would quirk up, threatening to let more laughter out. But she did her utmost best to not let that happen.

And at some point, Chandler realised she’d missed a good fifteen minutes of the movie, purely because she had been glancing at Veronica the entire time.

_Fuck._

She shook herself out of the state she was in, intent on returning her attention back to the movie, even though she’d seen it a couple of times before.

She just needed to turn her attention away from Veronica, is all.

And yet, no matter how many times she tried, her eyes would always wander back to her. Not always to catch her gaze, though. Sometimes they would just skim over her body, and that’s all it took to remind her of the previous night. The good parts of it, anyway.

And for fuck’s sake, the memories were really starting to take a toll on her.

At one point her gaze lingered on her chest without even realising, and she was only snapped out of it when she saw Veronica staring at her biting her lip, her brow raised. Chandler fluttered her lashes, before dragging her eyes away from her yet again.

 _Stop staring at her!_ she heard a voice scream at her in her head. _Not when Mac is right there!_

That thought seemed to convince her to keep her eyes locked onto the TV. Mac already knew too much about the events that had happened between them two weeks ago. She absolutely didn’t need to know about what had gone down last night.

 _No one_ did, for that matter. No one ever had to know, and no one ever will.

 _Then why the fuck did I do it?_ she mused, chewing on her lip. She convinced herself that glimpsing at Veronica this time wasn’t to stare it her, it was for answers. _Why did I fuck my… best friend?_ She glanced at the two other girls next to her. _Why her? Why not them?_

She realised the implications of what she had just thought, and she wanted to slap herself. To hell with the idea of her fucking Mac, or _God forbid_ her and Duke…

 _Jesus, what am I even thinking about?_ She rolled her eyes at herself, keeping her eyes on the film in a desperate attempt to _stop thinking about Veronica._

“You okay, Heather?”

She jolted at the sound of McNamara’s voice, and she turned towards her to reply that she was fine, only to stop herself when she saw that she was looking at Duke, who was resting her head on McNamara’s shoulder. Chandler arched a brow at that - she’d not seen Duke do such a thing in a long-ass time.

“I’m just real fucking tired,” the girl muttered. McNamara smiled sweetly and patted her on the head.

“You can go to sleep if you want,” she said. Duke slowly blinked.

“Tell me when the final fight scene plays,” she murmured, her eyes closing. “I’m not missing that.”

McNamara giggled.

“Will do.”

Chandler lightly scoffed at the sight of Duke leaning on Mac, but couldn’t be arsed with commenting about it.

“Wait, can you tell me when the final scene is?” McNamara turned to Chandler.

“Yeah, it’s when he gets thrown into the-”

“Wait, no spoilers!”

Chandler pursed her lips.

“I mean, just tell me when it comes on,” she said.

“Kay.”

The three girls who were still awake sat and watched the film in silence for the next ten minutes or so. Chandler could feel each time she flinched at a scary moment, since they sat so close that their shoulders brushed. It got a little annoying after a while, but she convinced herself to not snap at her.

She’d already done that today.

“Oh, God,” she heard McNamara gasp when the doll bit one of the characters on the arm. “I thought this movie was gonna be creepy, not gory!”

“Can’t handle a bit of gore, Mac?” Chandler teased, eyeing her bandage. McNamara blinked at her, as if unsure what she was referring to, before glancing at her nose.

“I mean, that’s different.” It seemed bringing up the topic reminded her to place the ice pack back on her nose. “That’s _my_ blood.”

“ _Was_ there blood?” she asked, beginning to grow curious.

Mac nodded. “My nose bled a little, and the bruise isn’t that great.”

“Shit. Sounds fun,” Chandler responded dryly. She was about to say something more, but a sudden weight landing on her shoulder made her whip her head around.

Apparently Veronica was taking a Duke approach and had fallen asleep with her head on her shoulder.

“What a pillowcase,” she muttered, ignoring her heart twisting around excitedly in her chest at the feeling of the girl’s body draped over hers.

“At least she didn’t fall the other way,” Mac stated, chuckling. “I’ve had enough of saving Veronica from falling off of things for one day.”

“God, me too,” she groaned, thinking back to how Veronica had _very nearly fell off the fucking building_. Her gut twisted at the thought. “Good on you for catching her.” She glanced at Mac.

“It’s a good think I was already holding her,” she said. “I might’ve not been able to…” She could feel the girl shudder.

“Why the hell did she act so cool with it?” Chandler muttered, glaring at the girl sleeping soundly on her shoulder. “Fucking cunt scared the ever-living crap out of me.”

“Oh no!” Mac pouted. “I hope Heather didn’t scare you when she told you I was hurt.”

“It was hard to say, considering how _vague_ she was,” she shot a glare at the girl snuggled up against her arm. “Couldn’t she just tell me you broke your nose rather than make Veronica and I get up early?”

The blonde gave an apologetic smile. “I felt like that wouldn’t be a good idea.”

Chandler raised her brows at her. “Why not?”

Mac patted her ice pack, looking down.

“I knew you were gonna get mad,” she murmured.

Chandler stared at her for a moment, her mind flashing back to earlier that day.

She had to admit, she’d been caught off guard by the idea of Mac punching someone in the face. She’d panicked when it had been someone at a _Remington party_ . But the image of her clogging David and _specifically_ David in the mouth was just… so satisfying to think about.

And in looking at the girl with her head down and her blonde curls drooping over her face, she couldn’t help but frown.

“Heather?”

McNamara cautiously glanced up at her.

“I’m…” Her mouth twitched. “I’m not mad, you know.” Her gaze dropped to her hands . “...Not at you, anyway.” Those words came out as almost a whisper. Regardless, McNamara heard them loud and clear.

“You’re not?” Hope flashed in her gaze for a second, before it faded into something of concern. “But… what are you- _who_ are you mad at then?”

Heather had to pause for a second. It was a good question. One she’d yet to ask herself.

Her eyes trailed to the brunette on her shoulder, her chest rising and falling against her arm, her chocolate locks swirling around her ginger curls.

Was she mad at Veronica?

With how her chest fluttered at the sight and the feeling of her warmth wrapping around her arm, she couldn’t bring herself to say yes.

“Veronica?” McNamara guessed, her voice dropping to a whisper. Heather slowly shook her head.

“No.” She’d honestly forgotten why she’d ever blamed her for yesterday’s events. Hell, she’d forgotten _how_ she’d blamed her. The girl just looked so peaceful, curled up against her, her breath lightly skimming her neck-

 _Stop it,_ she scolded herself.

“Then… who are you-”

“I don’t know!” she suddenly snapped, though she remembered to keep her voice hushed as to not wake up the other two girls. “I’m just… _pissed_.” She ran her fingers through her hair in a harsh way. “Because you know I’m right. We’ll be goddamn lucky if they even _consider_ letting us back into those parties!”

McNamara looked shameful for a second. Chandler gave a groan.

“Mac, I told you, _I’m not mad at you._ ”

“But I-” She bit her lip. “I should have never punched him. I shouldn’t have gotten into a fight!” She stared up at her, only one widened eye visible, her other covered by her blonde bangs. “It’s my fault we’re in this mess, Heather, it was stupid of me to-”

Chandler had enough. She slammed her hand over the girl’s mouth and glared at her.

“It’s _my_ fault, you dumbass,” she growled. “ _I’m_ the one who left. I’m the one who angered David.” Her voice grew a little weaker than her usual dominating tone. “It’s my fault,” she repeated.

“What?” McNamara’s eyes widened. “No! No, it’s not your fault!” Without disturbing Duke, Mac tried to twist her body around to face her more directly. “He was awful to you! I mean, I don’t know what _happened_ , but-”

“So what?” Chandler shrugged. “Look where it’s got us. We’ve been kicked from a Remington party.” She clamped her teeth down on her bottom lip to stop it from quivering. “It’s gonna be hell on Monday.”

Mac went quiet for a moment.

“I’m fine with that,” she then murmured. Chandler eyed her.

“Why? Why would you be-”

“Heather, if you stayed, it would’ve been hell for _you_!” Her hand reached out and grabbed hers. She flinched in surprise, but she didn’t pull away. “Yeah, we’ll probably get shit for starting up shit. But…” She pursed her lips, and she held up Heather’s hand to run her thumb over her knuckles. Heather felt a little warmer when she did so. “I don’t want this to keep happening to you, Heather.” She gazed up at her, her brown eye glossy, while her other eye was hidden.

Chandler felt something well up in her throat, and she swallowed it desperately. Instead, she just tightened the grip around Mac’s hand, trying to think of something witty to say. Instead, Mac continued.

“I’m sorry I never came after you. I never knew you were-” She sniffed. Oh shit. “It didn’t hit me until I saw how upset you were last night and I just realised how hard it must’ve been and-” A whimper escaped her. Chandler’s breath hitched.

“Heather-” she said, her tone softening. “Heather, don’t cry, I swear to God-” She used her finger to lift her chin up, and saw it was a bit too late to tell her that. She saw drops of tears beginning to roll down her cheeks, and she frowned. “Goddammit, Heather.”

“Sorry,” she sniffled, gently wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “It’s just… that’s why I did it.” She chewed on her lip as she held her blue gaze with her brown. “Those things he did and said about you… and the stuff he said about Veronica and Heather too… I just got really pissed and I-”

“It’s fine, okay, Heather?” Chandler told her, her tone becoming more firm. “I’m fine. Veronica got me out of there. You don’t need to waste time worrying.”

Mac slowly nodded, still sniffling.

“And you know I’m not mad at you, don’t you?” She glared at her when her gaze dropped. “Look at me, Mac.” McNamara lifted her head up on command. “I’m not mad at you. I’m…” she pursed her lips, rubbing them together. “I’m proud of you, okay?” she finally blurted out.

McNamara’s eyes widened. “You… what?”

“I just…” She took a deep breath, trying to not let her emotions get the best of her. “Come here, Mac.”

She lunged forward and wrapped her arm around the blonde, slipping her hand under her arm so that it was looped around her waist, also avoiding touching Duke, who was still leaning against her. McNamara hesitated at first, but quickly reciprocated the embrace, nuzzling up to the crook of her neck and coiling her arm around her waist. Chandler let her head rest on the blonde curls, the sweet scent of honey calming the rapid heart beat she hadn’t noticed until now.

“Does this mean you forgive me for spilling cafeteria food on you the other week?”

It took Chandler a second to figure out what she was referring to. She’d not thought about that day for a while now.

“Nah, I’m still pissed about that. That was gross.” Humour began to seep in her tone, and she hoped McNamara could hear it. “But hey, you made up for it.” She gently stroked her arm up and down the girl’s side. “You make me wish I stayed at the party for a little bit longer.”

“But I thought you-”

“I would’ve _loved_ to see you kick David in the nuts.” She lifted her head up and tugged her back lightly so that she could look at her and show her the smile on her face. “Sucks that I missed it.”

McNamara gazed up at her, smiling, before she giggled a sweet, rich giggle that was a _much_ more pleasant sound to listen to than her sobbing. Then it slowly faded, too soon for Chandler’s liking.

“It’s just…” McNamara murmured, the corners of her mouth drooping. “You’re right about Monday.” She sighed, and leaned against her arm. “We’re gonna get shit, aren’t we?”

“Mhmm.” Chandler nodded slowly, her head dropping onto Mac’s. “Not looking forward to it.”

“Guys.”

Both Chandler and McNamara jolted in surprise at the sound of Veronica’s voice. Chandler snapped her head away from Mac to stare at the brunette who Chandler thought had been sleeping.

“ _Veronica?_ ” She glared at her. “I thought you were _asleep_.”

“I mean, I was. Kinda.” She yawned and rubbed her eyes with her knuckles. “But then I heard someone crying and I woke up.” She looked at them both with a concerned gaze. “You alright?”

“Uh, yeah.” Chandler scoffed. “Mac’s nose was just hurting.”

“Oh, yeah, it hurt pretty bad,” McNamara said, catching onto the lie. “But I’m fine now-”

“That’s not what I heard,” Veronica said, arching a brow at them, though she mainly aimed her gaze at Chandler. “What’s wrong? Really?”

Chandler glanced at Mac, who caught her gaze, before she turned to Veronica.

“We were just… thinking.”

“About what?” Veronica tilted her head, concerned.

“About Monday,” McNamara said, her eyes darkening. “It’s probably gonna be pretty shit.”

“Oh.” Veronica offered a half smile, before leaning over to rub her shoulder, her arm accidentally (or not) brushing over Chandler’s chest as she did so. “Well… let’s not worry about that right now, okay?” She drew her arm back and looked at them both with a tired, yet reassuring gaze. “Let’s just… we’ll deal with it when the time comes.” She smiled a warm smile that Chandler forced herself not to mimic. “We’ve got thirty hours or so left. What’s the point in spending that time worrying about it?”

McNamara smiled. “I guess you’re right,” she murmured.

Veronica giggled, before turning back to the TV. “What did I miss?”

It was then that Chandler remembered that a movie had been playing this entire time. She’d completely blanked it out for the past ten minutes or so.

“Dunno. Wasn’t paying attention.”

“Useless,” Veronica muttered, though Chandler could tell it was a joke, so she let it slide.

“I have no idea what’s happening right now,” McNamara said, staring at the TV screen blankly. “But someone just died.”

“What else is new?” Veronica chuckled, her head falling back onto Heather’s shoulder. Heather’s breathing hitched at the girl’s warmth.

“Yeah…” McNamara breathed, slumping into the pillows behind her. Chandler did the same, followed by Veronica.

“I’m so fucking tired,” Chandler muttered, her lids suddenly beginning to feel heavy.

“Go to sleep then, dumbass,” Veronica told her, her low voice ringing against her ear. She bit her lip and swallowed.

“Don’t call me a dumbass when you nearly died,” she shot back. Veronica snickered.

“Hey, I’m fine now, aren’t I?”

“You nearly broke your neck. I was terrified!” McNamara told her.

“Genius fucking idea climbing through a window, ‘Ronica,” she mumbled, her head tiredly drooping onto the soft brown locks that faintly smelled like roses from the shampoo she’d lent her the previous day.

“Thanks,” she murmured back. She felt her body heat up when she felt her arms wrap around her own.

“Not a compliment.”

While leaning against the silky brown hair that was Veronica, she felt more warmth press up against her other side. She sleepily blinked open an eye and vaguely saw Mac leaning against her, her blonde hair curling around her shoulder and tickling her neck ever so lightly. A nice comfort, considering her bite marks were still very much there. She could really use the light strokes of the curly strands over the hidden bruises.

Her lids drooped again, and for a brief moment before they closed, the light shining from the bulb on the ceiling became more intense, shimmering on her lashes and causing her vision to blur into a bright golden colour. It was only for a second, but in the second before darkness, everything around her seemed to glow.

That’s all she really needed right now. Just a moment of bliss before inevitable disaster.

She fell asleep against the warmth of Veronica and Mac, the sounds of screaming and stabbing from the horror movie becoming muffled as she slipped into whatever dream may be waiting for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well that was a wild ride, i guess
> 
> not much else to say about this lmao
> 
> buuuuut i made a blog for this au! there i'll be posting art and maybe some extras of the au, as well as answering asks if any of y'all wanna shoot
> 
> https://heathersgameoftag.tumblr.com/

**Author's Note:**

> hey so remember in my last fic when i split it into two chapters because it was 60 pages long as a whole?
> 
> yeah well this chapter was 63 pages long lmao.


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